


Vampires in London (V.I.L.)

by Madam_Fandom



Series: J.S.L. [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Meet Differently, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Bisexual John, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Bloodlust, Creepy Moriarty, Doctor John, Doctor John Watson, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Empath John, Fae Magic, Feeding, First Time, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealousy, John in Leather, Johnlock - Freeform, Kitchen Sex, Laid back Sherlock, Leather Kink, Liam is a doll, M/M, Mention of Lestrade, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Psychic John, Rape like sex, Sexual Abuse, Sherlock in Leather, Vampire Council - Freeform, Vampire Moriarty, Vampire Mycroft, Vampire Sensitive John, Vampire Sex, Vampire Sherlock, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampire Underground, Vampires, sadistic behavior, vampires are real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 106,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7800808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Fandom/pseuds/Madam_Fandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is a doctor and nothing ever happens to him, and then it does. He meets two fascinating men at a fundraiser...he soon finds out vampires are real and they are in London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something different. I love vampires. I love BBC Sherlock. Why not. 
> 
> *shrug*

Nothing ever happens to me. And then it did. I’d heard a great many things about what goes on in the dead of night. London’s underbelly was no place for quiet, upstanding citizens like myself. I always made sure to stay in the “good” parts of town. That didn’t save me. Nor did all the years of living my life safe. 

He saved me. The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on. Sherlock Holmes.

I had always thought vampires were myth. Stories parents told their children to get them to behave. Besides, if these creatures had really existed, they were long ago wiped out, extinct, right? Unfortunately and then fortunately I was wrong.

 

I John H. Watson, simple surgeon and ex-army doctor had been invited to a fundraiser for Bart’s. I went of course, it’s where I went to school afterall. I was having a drink, minding my own business when a man approached me. He was about an inch or two taller than me. Dressed extremely well. Handsome, but in a dark sort of way. I don’t mean he was dark in color or clothing. It was an inner darkness. Being around him made me uneasy. But at the same time I just felt so damn special to have caught the eye of this _man_.         

 

“Hello. I'm Moriarty.” He held out his hand, palm down, like royalty expecting a kiss upon the hand. And his voice, though slightly nasally, held a sense of power and the promise of wild sex; it washed over me, leaving me with a underlying sense of dread and curiosity.

“John.” It had taken me an embarrassingly long amount of time to find my voice. I took his hand, turning it to give it a proper handshake. His hands felt dry, almost like dead leaves and I had to fight the urge to wipe my hand on my trouser legs.

“You’re a doctor I presume.” He said to me sounding bored.

“I am.” I was having a tough time looking away from his eyes. They were extremely dark, almost black, but they seemed almost luminescent. Silly I know, perhaps a trick of the lights. Moriarty stepped closer to me and I wanted to, no, needed to take an answering step back, away from him. My instincts all said flee, but my legs would not comply. I was suddenly frightened and I had no ideal why.

Moriarty placed a hand on my shoulder, still staring me in the eyes, he whispered, “Tell me all your secrets.”

“I don’t have very many secrets, thankfully. But not very many people know I fancy both men and women. I like to write. And sometimes I wish I was back in the war.” Why did I tell him that? I didn't even know him.

 

He grabbed my hand and before I could blink we were out on the balcony. “How- how did…”

“Shh musculum.” _little mouse._ “I don’t have the patience tonight. I must taste you. You’re a fine puzzle. I can feel your mind fighting me. You can sense it, can’t you? The danger you’re in.”

Moriarty smiled at me, at first I found myself thinking, what a beautiful smile he had and then I saw the hint of teeth. Fangs! He had bloody, Fangs.

Moriarty laughed. His face distorted and he was hideous. I was well and truly scared. Surely I was about to die. This man? No, monster was a vampire and he means to kill me I thought. My mind was in a haze. I wanted to fight, to run, but my body, traitorous thing that it was, wouldn't obey. The monster leaned in, inhaling deeply.

“Your fear is delicious. Intoxicating really.”

He licked at the pulse in my neck slowly, and still my body remained locked in place, although it shivered with repulsion. I felt his teeth graze my neck, I felt them sink in. But he pulled away immediately.

“So tempting, you are. You taste as sweet as I thought you would. I have to take you home with me so I can enjoy you properly. Maybe I can make you my little pet."

 

Suddenly, I felt another presence. It was like a tingling along my skin, almost like the anticipation you feel before the touch of your lover.

“Good evening.”

This voice, it was like silk being rubbed over my skin. Whereas Moriarty’s voice held a sense of power, promise of wild sex and made me feel dread. This newcomer, God help me; in his voice _was_ power. It sent wave upon wave of desire flowing through me. My eyes fluttered close on their own volition, and I started to sway.

“Leave!” Moriarty yelled breaking me from my trance. When I opened my eyes, my breath caught. Standing next to Moriarty was the most beautiful being I had ever seen. He was tall, eyes so pale a blue, in the night they appeared almost transparent. His lips the perfect cupid bow, perfect for kissing. His face looked like it had been chiseled by God himself. The newcomer reached out a hand, cupping my face. It was warm and soft, inviting. I found myself wanting to nuzzle into his hand. A corner of his mouth quirked up like he could hear my thoughts or read the longing thrumming through my body.

 

He released me abruptly, turning on Moriarty. “And what was your intentions here? To simply feed or drain him dry?”

“Sherlock, maybe you should go, daddy's busy.” Moriarty was fixing his tie, although it was still impeccably in place. I looked at the new man, Sherlock, what an unusual name. He too was dressed extremely well. They made me feel like I was some peasant standing by the table of the royals, begging for a crumb.

“Don't’ be silly John, if anything, Moriarty is the peasant begging for food.” Sherlock practically crooned at me. I swayed again, but this time Sherlock reached out taking me under his arm. I felt safe. I still didn’t understand exactly what they were arguing about but being in their presence was simply just, overwhelming.

 

“You’re showing off Sherlock. You might want to dial back on the power, you’ll burn his poor little insides out. And a pity that would be. He is absolutely scrumptious.”

Sherlock looked down at me in that moment. What happened next was wholly embarrassing and I only retell the incident to give warning of how powerful these creatures are. He bent his head slowly to my neck, as if he was giving me the chance to run away if I so chose. I couldn’t run away even if my legs would have worked. I drowned a thousand deaths in his eyes as he bent slowly, before he cast his eyes downward to my neck. I felt myself starting to hyperventilate, and then, he licked my pulse point. Right over the same spot I have felt Moriarty’s teeth. Sherlock came back up and looked at me appraisingly.

“You’re right Morty, he is heavenly. More the reason I can’t leave him with you, you have always been such a trencherman, eating more than your share. Accidents always seem to happen when you're around.”

He looked back down at me and winked. I fainted.

When I woke back up I was in my own flat, in my own bed all tucked in like it had been some sort of nightmare. But I know what I saw that night and I can’t forget. It is vividly emblazoned upon my mind.

 

John sat back reading for the third time his write up about the events of that night. It hadn’t been a dream. His friend Mike Stamford had saw him on the balcony with Moriarty and Sherlock. Mike had told him that he'd looked stoned and the two men seemed to be having a row. Well, he said the shorter man kept yelling and the taller paid him no mind. Stamford had even collaborated the bit about Sherlock licking his neck. Only from his viewpoint it had looked like Sherlock had kissed him, he said he'd seen him faint and but he couldn't remember seeing anyone leave.

 

John sighed heavily hitting submit on his blog. He might lose followers over this entry; not that he had many to begin with. But his blog had mainly consisted of medical anomalies or really anything medically he had found interesting. John slammed his laptop closed and rubbed a tired hand over his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well since that night. He kept hearing Moriarty’s voice, taunting him, telling him to come out and play. But whenever John closed his eyes, it was Sherlock that he saw. Those beautiful riotous curls, his eyes and that devilish smirk. That sexy smirk.

 

“You shouldn’t have wrote that blog John.”

John jumped and turned towards the voice. It was Sherlock. He was leaning against the wall by his bedroom door.

“How- how did you get in here? I thought you had to be invited in?”

“I was. You invited me in the night I brought you home. Do you not remember what happened that night? Well, I see you remember some of that night, and pretty accurately too. Except the dialogue. You got some of that wrong.”

“What happened after you brought me home? Or rather, after I passed out. I don't remember anything after, well after you, um...after I fainted.”

Sherlock sauntered closer to John, propping a hip on the table in front of him. “I flew you home. When we got here, I roused you, and you invited me in.” John licked his lips nervously. “You snogged me senseless and then we had a bout of very satisfying sex. Pity you don't recall that.” Sherlock smiled at John’s expression. He wasn’t sure if he was mortified or lamenting the fact that he didn't recall. Sherlock laughed at his John's thoughts.

John’s head popped up to stare at Sherlock. His laughter was like the gentle peal of wind chimes on a spring day, this man was too bloody distracting. 

“I’m just joking with you John. I brought you home. You invited me in. I made sure you got into bed safely. I attempted to wipe your mind of our encounter. And then I left.”

“Wait! You tried to wipe my memories!? That is wrong on so many levels. What if you accidently wiped the wrong memory and then one day I'm in surgery and realize I can no longer remember how to do a simple biopsy? Or better yet, what-”

“John! John! Calm down. I have been wiping memories longer than you’ve been alive. I don’t have accidents as you say.”

John looked at Sherlock with utter disbelief, he wasn't sure where to begin.

“Let me help you out John. I am 331 years old. Yes, I truly am a vampire and yes I can sometimes read your mind.”

John’s mouth hung open.

“Care to have dinner with me John?”

John’s mouth snapped closed. “Dinner? You’re 331 years old? But we don’t eat the same things, how can we have dinner?”

“Would you care to have dinner with me John?” Sherlock repeated standing up.

John looked up, “God yes.”

 

John found himself seated across Sherlock at a restaurant not far from his flat. Angelo's. Although it was close, he had never actually eaten here. He looked around the place and it was something about the place, he couldn't put his finger on it.

 

A man walked over to their table, “Sherlock! So good to see you again. What can I get for your date?”

“Date? Oh, I’m not his date. We’re just having dinner.” John argued.

The man smiled indulgently at John, similar to the way you would with a child.

Sherlock spoke up, “Bring him the spaghetti dinner with garlic bread and a glass of scotch.”

“And you Sherlock, should I bring you an empty glass?”

“What? No, no no no. Bring me a glass but not empty.”

“Ahh, very well be right back.”

John continued to stare out at the people in the restaurant.

“You’re in a mixed crowd. I have never met anyone so sensitive to our presence. Fascinating.”

“Sorry? Mixed crowd? What does that mean?”

“This is a restaurant that caters to both humans and Vampire alike. Usually people in the science and medical fields have a hard time accepting our existence. But not you, why is that? You knew I was on the balcony even before I said anything. Curiouser and curiouser.”

“True. That I knew you were there before you spoke.”

“How?”

“No clue really. I felt...it felt like my skin was crawling with electricity.”

“And now? What do you feel in mixed company?”

“I don't know. It’s like I feel something is off, but that’s it. No tingling skin.”

“What about with Moriarty?”

“Nope. I had no indication he was there until he was next to me.”

“Strange. You are definitely sensitive to us. Moriarty isn’t strong enough to shield himself completely. He must have caught your gaze without you realizing it and glamoured you before you even knew it.” Sherlock stared at John openly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The man came back to their table setting down a plate of spaghetti in front of John and a glass of dark red wine in front of Sherlock.

“Thank you Angelo.”

John stared at Sherlock’s glass. “That’s not wine is it?”

“Nope.”


	2. Proposition

_ _

_This human fascinates me. Not much has caught my eye over the past couple of centuries. But John Watson has._

Sherlock was writing in his journal. He had started keeping one about 150 years ago. It really helped to keep him grounded in the ebb and flow of time. And with the inevitable sense of loneliness.

_I know Morty will give me a hard time about this human. He thinks he has a right to him, that he seen him first. Little does he know I have been watching John Watson for a while now. Ever since I came across his blog post about an abnormal blood disorder. I needed to know he didn’t suspect vampirism; it would've put his life in danger. I would be an awful advocate of the weaker species if I had just turned a blind eye and not seen to his safety._

_John has an inner strength about him. And he’s a sensitive._

Sherlock sighed heavily, he was dramatic about everything he did, even when he was alone. It was second nature to him.

_I feel if he was to be made into one of us he would be powerful, I suspect he would even be strong enough to take out Moriarty while yet in his infancy stage. Maybe that is why Moriarty wants him._

_I didn’t buy that spiel about simply wanting a snack one bit. Moriarty forgets I had over three hundred years with him. I know him. If he could sire John, he would have an ace in the hole. It would seem the stronger the vampire, the stronger effect it has on John. That would come in handy for a master vamp who himself wasn't very strong. I was shielding completely. Morty hadn’t even know I was there until I spoke. Yet John sensed me right away._

_I don’t understand why Moriarty isn’t advancing in power like others of our ilk. He should be far more powerful than even me, but he isn’t. He is my sire, I shouldn’t have been able to break our bond, yet I did. _

_This is all too depressing to think about._

_I believe Moriarty is biding his time, waiting to not only confront me about John but also to go after John again. Naturally I must keep watch over him, keep him close of course._

 

Sherlock closed his journal, putting it away.

 

John was coming out of Bart’s fresh off of a 12 hour shift. He was exhausted. Stepping to the curb he raised his hand to hail a cab. From one second to the next Sherlock was standing next to him. “Christ! You are going to give me a heart attack one day.”

Sherlock smiled, John caught himself staring.

“So does that mean you will keep seeing me?” Sherlock asked, effortlessly pulling off a sheepish look. John wasn’t fooled though, he ignored his question. And asked one of his own. “How do you manage to smile and not show your fangs?”

A cab pulled up and John got in. Sherlock leaned into the car, “Mind if I share this cab with you?”

John grinned. “Get in you git. Not like I could stop you anyways.”

“True. Where are we headed?"

"Home. I'm knackered.”

“Are you too tired to accompany me to a favorite place of mine?”

“That depends, what will we be doing?”

The cabbies eyes snapped up, looking at them in the rearview mirror. John notice and turned an attractive shade of pink.

“What I meant to say is, if we will we be walking about I will be fine. But if the activity is of a  sedentary nature and we are required to be quiet, I won’t last.”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John’s choice of words. “I assure you John, you are never required to be quiet in my presence. And I would love to check out that theory.”

“I’m sorry? Theory? What theory?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John and smirked.

“I’m sorry, you're looking at me as though we both know what's up, but I haven't a clue.”

“He wants to test the theory of if you’ll last or not!” The cab driver yelled over his shoulder.

John’s eyes bugged.

“Relax John, it was meant to be a joke.” Sherlock turned, smiling behind his hand, he looked out of his window.

 

“So, are we just going to go back to my place?”

Sherlock chuckled.

“Oh John, you _are_ a delight.”

“Okay. So…?”

“The cabbie knows where to take us.”

“How is that?”

“I told him.” Sherlock said tapping the side of his head.

“Oh.”

 

The silence in the cab was pleasant but soon John found himself falling asleep. Jerking up into an upright position he apologized for falling asleep.

“It’s quite alright John. We have a little ways to go. You may rest.”

“That would be terribly-” John interrupted himself with a yawn. “Cuse me. As I was saying that would be terribly rude of me.”

Sherlock turned in the seat and faced John, he cupped the other man's face between his hands, absently rubbing his thumb across his cheek. He looked John in the eye and sent a compulsion. _Sleep. I will wake you when we arrive. You are safe._

 

John's eyes drifted close and he began to snore softly. Sherlock laid him down, his lap serving as a pillow for his head.

Sherlock watched John sleep for the next two hours as they drove out into the countryside. He found that he kept touching John, stroking his hair, back, arm, even his lips. He just couldn't seem to get enough of touching him. “Speak.” Sherlock commanded of the cab driver, he could feel the drivers energy practically just bubbling to say something and it was grating on his nerves and interrupting the tranquillity he felt while touching John. The driver was a low level vampire, only one or two years into the life.

“Excuse me if I am speaking out of turn, but you really like this one. I mean I don't know you sire, but the look in your eyes, the way you look at him, it says he’s something special.”

“Maybe. I haven’t figured it out yet.” Sherlock answered absently.

“You have. You’ll just have to wait for your mind to catch up to your heart.” Sherlock looked at the cab driver then. “No more talking.”

As an extremely high level vampire Sherlock was able to glamour and compel other vampires as well as humans. So the fact that he had such a hard time compelling John worried him. What was John? He had to be more than just a sensitive and empath. Sherlock needed to do some research when he reached home. He didn’t like _not_ knowing.

 

When they reached their destination Sherlock handed some bills to the cabbie. He had to make a living afterall. He compelled him to forget who his fare was and where he had driven. And as a parting gift he added, “When you feed on the humans, be gentle and only take what you need.”

 

He gathered John in his arms as if he weighed nothing. He walked to his home, a couple of miles from the road, but he moved so swiftly it seemed as if he made the trek in a blink of an eye. Reaching the entrance, Sherlock ran his lips along the shell of John’s ear before whispering, “Wake up John.”

When John opened his eyes he was looking up into Sherlock’s face. He was so close, he could just reach out a hand… Sherlock set John on his feet. John rubbed his eyes and stretched. “How long was I out?”

“A little over two hours.”

“What? Why did you let me sleep so long?”

“It was fine John.”

“Do vampires even need to sleep? You knows like in the movies? Cause each time I've seen you it has been at night.”

“Let us go inside and get settled before we start questioning one another.”

“What could you possibly want to know about me?” John looked genuinely flabbergasted by the idea that Sherlock might want to get to know him better.

“Everything. Now, please come into my home of your own free will.”

Sherlock stepped inside and held the door open for John.

John hesitated. “That seemed awfully formal for you to simply be inviting me in. What’s going on?”

“My, you’re just full of questions this evening. Just as a vampire cannot enter the home of a human uninvited, a human can only enter under their own volition, and must be invited as well. Now if you would.”

John stepped through the door taking in the room. He was extremely surprised by what he saw. The room was a hodge podge of mismatched furniture and every surface was literally covered with books, laptops, papers and lab equipment. He smiled; he liked it. It didn’t fit Sherlock’s public persona, but seeing his place made him appear more human, normal even.

John turned and looked at Sherlock, he was fidgeting; was he nervous? “I like it. It’s quite different than the way you present yourself, but people often do that don't we? With our appearances, we show the world what we want them to see, how we want them to perceive us but our homes show the real us.”

Sherlock removed his coat and scarf throwing them over a pile of books on a desk. “May I take your jacket? And would you like something to drink?”

John shrugged out of his jacket passing it to Sherlock, surprised when he hung it on a coat rack near the front door. “Water if you have it please.”

 

Sherlock fetched John a bottle of water while John removed a pile of papers from a chair and sat down.

Sherlock strolled back in, handing him the bottle of water, his shirt sleeves were now rolled up to his elbows. “Yes, vampires need sleep. We don’t need food like you do, but we can eat it. The blood of humans is what we survive on. And yes, I can be out during daylight hours. Some vampires lose that ability over time, we don’t know what causes it.”

 

John sat back in his seat watching Sherlock. He had opted to lean against the desk and cross his legs at the ankle, both arms braced on either side of him. He truly was a beautiful man, John felt he could stare at him and never get his fill.

“Sherlock, what is your interest in me?”

Sherlock wanted to lie to John, tell him he wasn’t, that he was only trying to ensure that John wouldn’t tell anyone about his existence. But looking into his eyes, Sherlock found he couldn’t lie to him. It was almost like John had _him_ under a compulsion. “You make me feel alive. Even human again. You’re gorgeous, you resist my compulsions and all my vampire wiles so it seems.”

“But you compelled me to sleep in the cab.”

“You shouldn’t even remember that. I have only successfully compelled you when you were already under duress, sleep or exhausted. In other words when your mind was weak or divided. I am an extremely powerful vampire and not only do you resist me, you were able to sense me when another vampire could not. You wholly fascinate me. I haven't been this fascinated by anyone or anything in roughly two hundred years. And it’s not just the fact you resist me on a vampiric level, _you_ interest me.” Sherlock raked a hand roughly through his hair and stepped away from John, pacing the open area.

“But- I can’t resist you.” John cleared his throat and continued. He found this rather embarrassing to admit but he believed in truth and honesty and needed Sherlock to see him for who he was and not what he thought John to be, some sort of human anomaly. “I think about you constantly. I can’t- I can’t close my bloody eyes without seeing you. You are the most beautiful creature,” John saw Sherlock flinch presumably at his words, “man; hell, person, male or female, that I have ever seen.” John abandoned his seat and went to Sherlock, he could. sense he was upset and was trying to hide it, John feared his words had made it worst. He placed a hand on Sherlock’s arm. “Sherlock?”

The vampire turned and looked down at John. “Don’t you understand? You desire me not because I made you desire me, but because that is how you really feel. Everything you feel is yours.” He stroked John’s face. “That is the most precious of gifts you could have given me.” Sherlock felt the excitement and fear one feels when they are unsure about the intentions or feelings of another person. He felt so human around John. He made him feel alive. And it was scary. He wasn’t use to fearing anyone or anything. He was use to being the one to induce fear in others.

 

Sherlock stepped in close to John, so close they were breathing the same air. John showed no fear and was totally trusting of the other man. Sherlock held his gaze, lowering his head, not closing his eyes until their lips touched gently. Sherlock wrapped his arm around John pulling him in closer. But it was John who deepened the kiss.

 

Leaning into Sherlock he wrapped a hand around the taller man's neck, delving his tongue into his mouth. John felt the sharpness of Sherlock's fangs but pushed forward anyways. Sherlock moaned into the kiss, spurring John on. In his excitement he ran the tip of his tongue over one of his fangs, cutting himself. Sherlock quickly pushed John away from him.

John apologized profusely as he watched Sherlock try and compose himself. “It’s-it’s alright John.”

“I'm an idiot, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.  I shouldn-”

Sherlock took John's face between his hands again. “John it is okay. But, I am going to kiss you again, we need to stop the bleeding.”

“Uh huh.” John said absently, he was staring at Sherlock's lips.

“Don’t move.” Sherlock first licked at a bit of blood that had run from the corner of John's mouth, the shorter man's eyes fluttered closed. Sherlock proceeded to kiss John at a much slower and controlled pace. He licked into his mouth, savoring the taste of blood and the unique taste of John. He made sure to lick the actual cut on John’s tongue, sealing it and stopping the bleeding. He pulled away from the other man. When he opened his eyes and looked down, John’s eyes were still closed. “John? Are you okay?”

“Take me to bed Sherlock.” Was John’s breathless response.

Sherlock groaned, his trousers felt 2 sizes 2 small. “I don’t think that is such a great idea right now."

 

“Right.” John opened his eyes and stepped away stiffly from Sherlock, sitting back in the chair.

“John listen.”

“So, wouldn’t me knowing all of this about my resistance to compulsion and being sensitive make me even more of a threat?”

Sherlock allowed the subject change.

“Yes.”

“So why are you telling me?”

“I can’t seem to help myself honestly. You’re almost like a truth serum. But the fact that you can't be compelled to forget is the reason I am going to offer you this proposition.”

“Okay I’m listening.”

“I have a vast amount of wealth. I have more room than I know what to do with, and I need to keep an eye on you, how do feel about quitting your job and moving in here?”


	3. Alliance

“Are you serious? Me, quit my job? I’m a doctor.”

“I’m quite aware of that.”

“I enjoy helping people, you expect me to just give up my job willy nilly and indefinitely? I don’t think so.”

“I could make you quit and move in with me.”

“No you can’t.

“Well, would it change your mind if I told you that you would still be helping people, but from here?”

“And how’s that? Open up a private clinic out where ever we currently are?”

“That could work. But I was referring to some research I have been doing, I could use the help of a doctor.”

“It’s not the same.”

“It is research into the vampire strain. It’s like a disease that takes over the body. I want to find a cure for it. Not everyone who becomes a vampire asked for it. If we could find a cure we could heal those who were turned against their will. We could prevent the vampires who can’t live this way from taking their own lives.”

John saw Sherlock was very passionate about this and believed in his research and honestly just wanted to help those stuck in an undead limbo.

“Be honest with me Sherlock. Are there any other kinds of research you are doing?”

Sherlock made a face as to say don’t be daft. “Of course I am. I am also looking for ways that vampire blood can assist in or heal human diseases. And on the vampire side of things I am trying to figure out why some of us, like myself, increase in power with age. And some plateau or decrease like Moriarty. Like with the sunlight issue. Moriarty can barely stand to be in the sun, whereas it doesn’t bother me one way or another.”

“Interesting. And you want my assistance with your research? Why me, I'm not even a hematologist.”

“Yes but you’re smart. And I’ve read your blog. You catch things that other doctors haven't or wouldn’t.”

“How do you know I won't take this newfound information and use it against you?”

“To what end John? I want to cure vampires. What else could you do with a cure? Besides, you are honorable. A good man. You wouldn’t do anything to hurt or jeopardize someone else.”

“Some people would argue that vampires aren't human. And don’t deserve the same rights.”

“But not you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you said some people. Not I or we. You don’t include yourself in the same category as _those_ people.”

“All right Sherlock. Let’s say I decide to help you, what’s in it for me?”

“Your safety for one. The fact that you can resist my compulsions is a good indication that you will be able to resist 98.9% of the vampires currently residing in Europe. That doesn’t bode well for you. You aren’t impervious to injury. Vampire’s rather kill you out right then wait and see if you’re a threat.”

“Couldn’t I just pretend to be under compulsion?”

“Pretending could lead to you doing something you regret and you _will_ remember it.”

“Bollocks. Okay. So you’re obviously handling room and board, as well as research expenses. Are you also handling spending money?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Whatever you need.”

John looked at Sherlock speculatively. This was too easy. “All right. I’m famished and I need to resign my job properly. I need to be able to go back when the threat to me is eliminated.”

“John. When exactly do you think that will be? This is a lifestyle change so to speak. Vampires will always be around no matter if we are successful and cure hundreds. There are still those who enjoy being a vampire. And will continue to make more. We can work out something that allows you to still help humans if that will make you feel better about the long run.”

Sherlock was standing in front of John beseeching him and showing not only concern but sympathy for his plight.

“I really am sorry John. I wish Moriarty hadn’t pushed my hand. That he had left you alone. But I must confess to you that I have been aware of your existence for several years now. I simply left you alone and watched from afar. But I know Moriarty. I spent most of my undead life with him.”

“You two were an item?”

“Of sorts. I rather not talk about _how_ I came to know Moriarty but I will share with you that he was my sire. He made me into a vampire.”

“Against your wishes? Is that why you would like to find a cure? And what do you mean _was_ your sire?”

“Yes and no. When I was a human, I had made mention of my desire to be by his side forever. Fanciful talk really, stemming from human emotion and sentiment, something I no longer suffer from. And well, Moriarty took what I said and bent it to fit his own desires. And yes, was. I grew in power and was able to break the bond between my sire and I. I shouldn’t have been able to do that. But just as you are an anomaly among men, I too am amongst vampires. I grew in strength rapidly. I kept it hidden at first, Morty is a very jealous individual. But there were things I was not aware of because he liked to keep me in the dark. So essentially I gave myself away. And that was the beginning of the end to he and I." John listened intently, showing no signs of judgement. "To help you understand, as I told you, I am 331 years old. Of those years, for 42 of them I was human. By time I reached 150 years old I had the power of a vampire twice my age. At 300 years old, I was being compared to ancients. I am one third of the way to another centennial, what can one deduce about what my power will be like then?”

“So if you are so powerful, why don't you just enforce a decree to keep me safe?”

“Like some of your generation's works of fiction, we have a vampire council. And they call all the shots. They each are ancient and hold power immeasurable. Besides, they fear me, I am quite young for a vampire and they too have come to the same conclusion, if I am allowed to to ripen to the age of an old one, I might be unstoppable. They already have a bounty on my head as it is. So me placing a warning to leave you alone will only strengthen their resolve to take _you_ out.”

“So should I then reason the further away from you I am, the safer I am?" John asked, although if he was being honest he didn’t like the prospect of being away from Sherlock indefinitely, he wanted to get to know him better.

“Ordinarily yes. But I am still the only one who can keep you safe, or more importantly, even cares to do so.”

“Wow. So basically, I am the damsel in distress and you my hero. Nope. I don’t buy it. There must be something I can do to protect myself. Does any of the movie theories actually work? Garlic, holy water, sunlight?”

“None of the above. I'm quite fond of Italian food.”

“Seriously? Nothing I can do?”

“I think that there might be something you can do. But not something humans as a whole can do.”

“Well what are we waiting for, teach me.”

Sighing dramatically Sherlock replied, “First off I said _think_. Secondly, I thought you were famished?”

“I am. And not only for food.” John winked at Sherlock and smiled. “ But, okay, so food first.”

 

John and Sherlock was sitting at a table in Angelo’s. John had ordered his food and he was currently stuffing his face. Sherlock lean back in his chair watching the man. “If you feed your other hungers as aggressively as you do your body, I must say I'm highly interested.”

“Nuh uh.” John said around a mouth full of food while wagging his breadstick at Sherlock. “You had your chance mister.”

Sherlock pretended to be wounded. “But my dear Watson, I was only looking out for your sensibilities. I was looking out for you.”

John laughed loud and heartily. A couple of people looked their way. John didn’t notice and Sherlock only had eyes for John.

“Oh no you don’t. _I_ did not turn you down. In fact I am the one who suggested. Don’t put this on me, like the only reason we aren’t have incredible, probably very scary, sex is because of the poor weak human.”

“John do keep your voice down. I don't want others to know you’re open to the idea of sex with a vampire. You’d get all kind of crazy suitors banging at the door.”

“Sure, better than being banged against door, huh?”

Sherlock lowered his voice and practically purred his next words. “Do you really think I can’t convince you to offer me admittance into your bed again? I for one have no doubt of it. I am a consummate lover, I will make you beg me to take you.” Sherlock's face had gone deathly serious.

The skin tingling was back and John felt light headed again, he refused to pass out in a restaurant where half of the occupants had probably just heard their exchange. John took a sip of his tea. Clearing his throat he managed to push past the fog that was clouding his mind. “Well, I suppose we shall see.”

 

They managed to move on to safer subjects, namely current events and things of that nature. When John had finished eating Angelo brought out a covered pan. Looking up at Angelo John asked, “What’s this?”

“Your next meal on the house. Anyone who eats with such gusto is welcome here anytime.”

John smiled warmly up at the restaurant owner. “Thank you.”

Angelo nodded and went back towards the kitchen.

John looked to Sherlock, you didn’t make him do that, did you?”

“What? God no. Let’s go. We need to gather some of your things, since you insist.”

“I do.”

“I know.”

John chuckled. He felt Sherlock and himself had an easy camaraderie even though that had only just met.

 

Back at John’s flat he grabbed an overnight bag and put a couple changes of clothes, toiletries, his journal and his laptop. He couldn’t think of anything else he would need immediately. He would need to let Mrs. Hudson, his landlady know he was going to sublet the flat until he could return, and despite what Sherlock said, he _would_ be returning.

Coming out of the room he found Sherlock sitting in his favorite black leather chair. “Oh this is coming. I love this chair; it's so comfortable.”

“I suppose you could use that one and I’ll just take the other one.” John shook his head at Sherlock in good humor.

“The other one? What on earth for?”

“Well since you are laying claim to _my_ favorite chair, I shall just have to pick another.”

“Well I suppose if it has to be that one, so be it. Grab your bag and I'll grab the food. I will send someone for the rest of your clothing and the chairs in the morning.”


	4. Boundaries Tested

The two men had fallen into a routine; John helped Sherlock with research during the day and at night they would test John’s sensitivity to vampires amongst other things. Sometimes, Sherlock would enlist the help of lesser vampires and then wipe their mind of the interaction to keep John’s anonymity intact.

“Focus John.”

“I am bloody focusing. It would be easier to focus if you weren’t badgering me every 30 seconds.”

Sherlock was trying to see if John had any psychic abilities by performing different test. He was currently testing for telekinesis. He wanted John to try and move one of the objects on the table in front of him. There was a wooden stake, a steel knife, and a glass of water. They had been at it for over an hour and they both were getting cranky.

Sherlock felt in his heart that there was more to John and he just had to unlock that part of himself. He felt like John was holding back.

“John, just make up your mind to move-”

“Sod off Sherlock! I am doing my best to move the items; now leave...me...alone!” When John yelled the word alone every candle in the room ignited, bathing the room in a soft glow. John and Sherlock looked around the room dumbfounded.

John looked to Sherlock, hoping he would offer an explanation that did not include John being the source of the light show. But Sherlock looked so smug and John knew by that look Sherlock had nothing to do with it. “Bloody hell.” John exclaimed burying his face in his hands. Sherlock approached him from behind, rubbing a hand up and down his back, trying to soothe his frazzled nerves.

“This is good John. This is good.”

“Then why does it feel like the beginning of the end?”

“Because you’re so negative.”

“How is this a positive thing Sherlock? It’s very dangerous.”

“For vampires, yes.”

John sighed. “Can we try something different other than me moving things, or burning things with my mind? Please.”

Sherlock removed his hand from John’s back.

“Let’s work on your shielding. You are particularly easy to read when you are emotional, like now. So let’s practice you shielding from outside forces.”

“All right.”

Sherlock focused on reading John’s mind. What he saw surprised him. John was thinking of holding him down and kissing him senseless. Well then. “John, your shield is not strong enough.” Sherlock saw as John actually pictured himself building a wall up and around his thoughts. Sherlock nearly laughed at the absurdity of it until he realized it was working, he was no longer getting any images from John, simply a blank wall. He grinned, it worked. “Very good John, I can no longer see you snogging me senseless.”

John blushed and his wall fell, and Sherlock was able to see John picturing himself throttling Sherlock. John was such a mercurial man. He laughed at the image nonetheless and flicked his wrist, sending a stiff breeze through the room, extinguished the candles that John had lit on accident.

“How about an outing? For some real world practice instead?”

John looked up at Sherlock with so much hope, how could Sherlock deny this man anything?

“You’re serious? You’re not playing with me are you? I’ve been cooped up here for over a month.”

“No, no games. I am serious. But…”

John’s face fell.

“I have to mark you as mine so that when we are among other vampires they will all know you are off limits.

“Done.” John said quickly.

“But you don't even know what it is I have to do, it could be unpleasant.”

“Anymore unpleasant than usual? Doubtful. Sign me up. I want to go get ready.”

“John.” Sherlock’s tone had gone serious. “To mark you as mine is a two step process.”

“Okay.”

“First I must bite you and drink some of your blood.”

“All right.”

“Secondly, you have to drink some of mine in return.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Won’t that make me into a vampire?”

“Well the steps to making a vampire is similar, but no. Neither of us will be drinking enough of the other’s blood to risk making you a vampire.”

John was silent for a moment while he thought over the necessary steps. “How will this keep me from being taken from you?”

“Other vampires will not only see my bite adorning your neck, but they will be able to smell my blood mixed with yours as it pumps through your system.”

“Okay, does it have to be the neck?" John asked.

"I can bite you other places, but those places aren’t readily seen in public.”

John turned red as he thought of the other veins that Sherlock could tap. “Okay, neck it is then.”

“You will have to wear a shirt that has a low or no collar to it. The bite has to be seen.”

“I’m actually not sure if I have something like that. You’ve seen my wardrobe, mainly button ups and jumpers for me.”

“We can leave your shirt unbuttoned and pushed aside. Maybe you should go and get ready first so I know exactly where to bite you and don’t have to do it more than once.”

“Good idea.” John disappeared to his room to shower and find something to wear.

Sherlock searched through his clothes, carefully picking them out. Appearances was everything in the vampire world. Ordinarily he would have insisted on picking out John’s clothes, or purchasing something appropriate, but he wanted to downplay the importance of John to himself and the strength that John will eventually bring to his power structure.

This was a tricky move because some vampires would choose to read the situation as John is just a flight of fancy to keeping him occupied for the time being and therefore they would declare it open season regardless of his mark on the man. John’s usual choice of dress was understated and very school teacher esque. He hoped that also helped to dissuade people from looking too closely at his human. He looked absolutely boring. But fortunately enough, Sherlock knew that to be further from the truth. John had a sharp mind, a sharper tongue and he was funny.

Sherlock finished getting dressed and walked out to the sitting room to wait on John.

 

This was John’s first night out since coming to live here. It has been interesting and quite informative. He enjoyed Sherlock’s company a lot. But a chance to get out and stretch his legs, to mingle with others, even if those other were vampires, he couldn’t pass up the chance. He looked at his meager wardrobe. There was nothing impressive in the whole lot. Vampires, in the movies at least, were all thought to be very beautiful people that relied heavily on appearances. And judging by Sherlock and Moriarty it was at least true of the older vamps.

He should have asked Sherlock to take him shopping, there was no way he would be able to fit any of Sherlock’s clothes. He was tall and slender; whereas John was the opposite, short and bulky. John was at least resourceful when it came crunch time and he picked out a shirt and some trousers he thought might work for what he had in mind. He jumped in the shower, humming all the while.

 

What on earth was taking John Watson so bloody long to get dressed? John walked out, both men took in the appearance of the other and they wore the exact same expression, surprise and lust.

To say Sherlock was shocked would be an understatement. He had seen John in all his boring jumpers and button up shirts and baggy trousers plenty of times. But his old looked made new by subtle touches was enough to make his mouth go dry with desire. He would like nothing more than to take John Watson to bed and to hell with going out. He was wearing a pair of black trousers, they must have been an older pair because they fit him snug, cupping him and molding to his frame gently. The shirt he wore was one he had seen numerous times, in fact, he had commented on the fact that the shirt looked lovely on John on different occasions. Had John wore it for him? It was a charcoal grey long sleeve shirt with miniscule silver pinstripes running through it. John had left it unbuttoned all the way to below his pectoral muscles and had rolled up his sleeves to right above his forearms, it gave a hint of how strong and well defined the doctor actually was. John had done something different with his hair, instead of just combing it forward with a little part on the side, he had combed it backward with no part at all. And the finishing touch? He hadn’t shaved. He left the bit of scruff on his face and Sherlock swore the man looked good enough to eat. He would be fighting people off of him all night, his vampire mark be damned. Sherlock was practically salivating at the picture John presented.

 

John saw how Sherlock was looking at him, normally he would be a bit self conscious, but he was too busy admiring Sherlock himself to care. He had never seen this particular ensemble on Sherlock but he was sure Sherlock had more clothes than common sense and it would probably take a lifetime to see every outfit he owned. But this was a surprise, he never would have figured Sherlock for the leather type. He wore tight black trousers, a sheer eggplant purple shirt, that hinted at the creamy skin beneath, the cuffs and collar on the shirt were leather, as was the vest he wore over the shirt. But it wasn’t in poor taste, it didn’t look cheap or gaudy. The vest was tailored to fit his frame and it had a small pocket for a pocket watch which he was wearing, the chain draped artfully from the pocket and clipped to one of the buttonholes. The chain was made of a black metal as were the cufflinks on the shirt, but the cufflinks had more shine courtesy of a stone encrusted on the links, an onyx or a black diamond maybe. Sherlock’s finishing touch, a black wooden cane, the top had the head of a cherub, also with black stones for eyes. The only thing missing from Sherlock’s sex on a stick look was his hair. He had brushed it back harshly from his face. John licked his lips and approached Sherlock. “You look…” John licked his lips again, “delectable. May I?” John asked gesturing to Sherlock’s hair.

Sherlock raised a brow at John, then lifted one shoulder in consent.

John bit his lip and reached up musing Sherlock's hair, ruffling it so it looked unkempt and a lot like he had just woken up or had just gotten done having mindblowing sex. “There you go.” John said a bit breathless.

Sherlock walked past John and looked in the mirror. He saw the difference it made in his overall appearance. And apparently John liked what he saw as well because his heart rate had picked up. “Thank you John. Now, time for the mark, you ready?”

John nodded. Sherlock noticed that he had clinched his fist, a clear sign that he was nervous. He needed to take his John out more often if he was willing to do something that made him nervous just to be able to get out of the house. It gave Sherlock something to think about.

He looked John over trying to decided which area would make for a better display for his mark. In what John was wearing he had options. He could go for the neck which could be missed if John had his head turned a certain way. His wrist were also on display, but again, if he kept his hands in his pocket or grasped behind his back like he was apt to do that too could be missed. When he had told John he needed to mark him his intentions had been to do the neck. One because he knew John was sensitive there and two most vamps looked to the neck first for a mark. But staring at his beautiful human, Sherlock saw it clear as day, he was going to mark his chest. It was an impressive chest, well defined muscles, a light dusting of sun. It was sometimes hard to tap the vein there but with the way John’s heart was racing it was practically calling to him.

John tipped his head to the side and pulled the collar to the side baring more of his neck to Sherlock. Sherlock's own pulse raced with the sight of John offering himself up.

Sherlock placed his hands on John’s biceps and licked a stripe over the begging pulse in his neck, but of course he didn’t bite him, he was saving that honor for a different part of his body. He lead John over to the couch, he sat down and pulled John across his lap.

“Is this really necessary?” John’s voice barely audible.

“Yes. I am not going to bite you on your neck, I’m going to bite you here.” Sherlock ran one of his long fingers over John’s heart. “Considering what you are wearing it will be displayed better there.” Sherlock ran his finger over the spot again, causing a shiver to run through John.

“On with it Sherlock.” John barked out.

Sherlock lowered his mouth to John’s chest, running his tongue over the intended spot, grazed his teeth against the skin, teasing, trying to relax John. Sherlock rubbed circles with his thumb over John’s wrist, a further attempt to calm his nerves. Finally, he sank his teeth into John, the sweet and tangy taste unique to the man in his arms. Sherlock suckled lazily for a moment careful not to take too much, only a little was needed after all. Sherlock however did not seal the wound with his tongue, he needed the mark to show. He undid the cufflink on his right arm biting into it, blood welled up in the wound, with the forefinger of his left he smeared a bit of the blood over the puncture wound on John’s chest. Then he offered his wrist to John.

John was breathing hard, he’d figured marking him would be a little on the sexual side, what he had not counted on was how much it affected him. He had a raging hard on right now and no way or time to ease the ache. He looked at the proffered wrist in front of him. John had tasted his own blood before when he cut his finger or something small like that, but this was not only the blood of someone else, it was the blood of a vampire.

He trusted that Sherlock told him the truth about it not being enough to change him but he still wasn’t so sold on drinking another person's blood. Treating it like a shot of liquor, John placed his mouth over the wound and tipped his head back as if he was knocking back a drink. The blood had a smoothness to it, almost like an aged, fine scotch. It tasted different than his own blood, it had a spicy taste to it with a slight sweetness, and of course the unavoidable taste of copper, often associated with blood. But John felt like he could taste power in the blood as well; like drinking down electricity. Without realizing what he was doing John gripped Sherlock’s wrist to his mouth, sucking hard.

Sherlock moaned aloud. He’d forgotten how it felt to have someone drinking from him. It’d been at least a century since he last felt the lips of another on his body, taking sustenance. With great effort he pried John away from his wrist, careful to lick the wound, sealing it in the process.

John felt drunk on Sherlock’s blood. He wasn’t sure if this was a normal reaction or another anomaly unique to himself.

Sherlock looked at John, his pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged and his lips were smeared with his blood. Sherlock bent, taking John’s mouth in a fury. He tasted himself there and it was electrifying. He had to be the voice of reason though. He pulled back, licking the wayward blood from around John’s mouth. Sherlock set John back upright. Both men clearly affected by the blood exchange. “Go clean your chest and then we’ll leave.” Sherlock said in a clipped manner.

John had trouble getting to his feet, when he did he shook his leg to try and adjust the bulge in his trousers. He looked at Sherlock and saw he was handling this about as well as himself. He stumbled to his bathroom to clean up as instructed. When he returned Sherlock was on his feet and the picture of composure.

“Let us go my dear Watson.” Sherlock offered his elbow and John placed his hand in the crook of his arm, allowing himself to be led out.


	5. Dancing, Drinking, and Fun

Sherlock and John paused around the corner from the vampire club.

“I want you to practice keeping your wall up while thinking about something trivial. Think of your mind like a radio signal, you only want to broadcast certain things. So imagine your wall up, but broadcast what you want everyone to know or think. Got it?” John nodded that he did. “Remember, I want you to enjoy yourself but this is a live practice. If you ever feel like you are in danger, find me. If we get separated, mentally call for me.”

John smiled up at Sherlock, “I got it.” He was still feeling a little loopy from the blood exchange. A lot like being intoxicated from alcohol.

Sherlock watched as John built his wall up around his mind and begin thinking /broadcasting dancing, drinking, fun, and getting laid. “You may not want to send out any vibes about sex. Vampires thrive off of sex and violence. And fear. Preferably all three at the same time.”

"Duly noted." John mentally placed that thought behind his wall. It was hard not to think about sex when he was here with the sex king himself. And he hated to admit, he was still aroused from earlier; he was sure the trousers he wore showed that bit clearly.

 

Sherlock and John entered the club together. Sherlock walked to a booth that had a complete view of the floor, bar and entrance. He sat down gracefully, draping himself artfully over the plush black furniture as John stared on with lust apparent in his eyes. Sherlock gave him a look so heated and filled with promise, John felt like they were in danger of being put out for indecency.

“Do you dance?” John didn’t raise his voice over the music, he knew Sherlock could hear him as clearly as if he was whispering in his ear.

“No.” _Shame, y_ _ou have a body made for dancing._ Sherlock gave a sexually laden smirk when John accidentally let his thought leak through. “Remember keep your guard up at all times.”

John  reluctantly turned away from Sherlock heading straight for the bar; he order a scotch neat. Picking up the drink he knocked it back quickly and then ordered a second one, doing the same. John felt like dancing. It wasn't really his type of music, and he wasn’t a very good dancer, but it was dancing or burst. He made his way over to the dance floor, standing at the edge. He closed his eyes, John wanted to allow himself to get a feel for the music before attempting to go out on the dance floor.

The music was fast and heavy but there was a sensual undertone. He felt himself swaying slightly in time with those undertones.

 

John felt someone come up to him, running a hand casually along his shoulder, down his arm and taking his hand leading him to the dance floor. John didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t care that an unknown vampire wanted to dance with him. He just wanted to let loose for once in his life, be carefree. And truth be told, maybe the scotch was helping him feel a bit carefree. He let the vampire pull him close, positioning his leg between John’s thighs and John’s leg was between his. John let the vampire lead, while he followed.

 

Sherlock watched from his seat. He saw what vampire had lead John to the dance floor; and it made his blood boil. He wanted to go out there and snatch John away. But, the whole point of the outing was to see how John handled himself. Real world application Sherlock had said. On the bright side, he  was pleased to see John’s wall was holding up despite his sudden lack of common sense.

 

John allowed himself to melt into the vamp, there was something familiar about him, but he didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew it wasn’t Sherlock, Sherlock was slimmer and taller and more...well, just _more_.

The song changed and his vampire dance partner upped the ante. He began grinding against him rubbing his leg against the bulge in John’s trousers. John double checked that he wasn't broadcasting sex again. _Dancing. Drinking. Fun._ Those were his only thoughts but his body seemed to have a mind of it’s own. It was responding to the stimulus; John couldn't deny it felt good. He mimicked his dance partner's actions, grinding and rubbing against him. It was no worse than what he had saw others doing in the not so dark corners of the club.

 

John’s body moved with a fluidity that must of been loaned to him by the scotch or Sherlock's blood. John felt truly wanton and no longer cared if he made a spectacle of himself with a complete stranger. He felt so close to release. The vampire’s hands lowered to the small of his back, holding him tighter. The two of them rutted to the beat of the music.

 

Suddenly John felt someone at his back. _Sherlock._ His arms came up, wrapping around his chest, enveloping him and excluding John's dance partner. 

Sherlock moved with the duo to the beat of the music; he didn't want to cause a scene, but he needed to keep a closer eye on John's partner.

 

The three of them, danced and grinded to the beat of the song. It looked choregraper it was so effortless. John was trapped between two hard bodies, both pressing in on him, taking and giving. He could feel that Sherlock was just as effected by the closeness as he and the mystery vamp was. He allowed his head to loll back and rest against Sherlock's chest.

 

“Looks like Sherlock has been neglecting his pet. He’s so needy Sherlock. You should take better care of your doctor.”

John’s eyes opened slowly, it was like his eyelids had sealed themselves shut.

He knew that voice... _Moriarty._ John stopped moving. He did _not_ want this. Not with _this_ vampire. He couldn’t even explain his aversion to Moriarty, just instinct telling him this vampire was _a lot no good_.

Moriarty kept dancing even though both Sherlock and John had stopped. He didn't let go of John's waist. He grinded harder against the smaller man and smiled when he felt John trying to pry his hands from his body. What he couldn’t figure out was why Sherlock wasn’t helping his human, he had just told him the other day that John was his and for Moriarty to stay away.

Moriarty decided to push his luck, face it, when did he not? He struck quickly, biting John in the neck, and pushing the man over the edge. John came in his arms, his orgasm intense. And Sherlock reacted. As he figured he would.

Moriarty felt his old friend's power swell so it filled the room and pressed upon every vampire in attendance. It was like a living, breathing entity, pulsing, throbbing in their veins like the beat of a drum.

Sherlock was furious. He should have expected Moriarty to try something so underhanded. Seeing red at the utter disrespect and violation of John, Sherlock simply reacted, not thinking about his actions in the least. Unleashing the full extent of his power, the music came to an abrupt halt, there was no talking, laughing or any semblance of life. The lesser vampires bowed under the weight of his power. Still John’s wall held, and Moriarty stayed clamped to John’s neck, drinking greedily and smiling despite having his mouth locked on John's neck.

Sherlock locked eyes with the fiend and pushed his will. _RELEASE HIM NOW!_

 

Moriarty stumbled back abruptly as if physically yanked away from the human. John sagged against Sherlock eyes closing. Sherlock caught him against his body, holding him effortlessly.

 

Sherlock knew he looked fearsome even to his brethren, if John could see him, no doubt he would be frightened; seeing Sherlock's eyes alight with a pale blue fire and the face of his beast would be visible. He didn’t want John to see him like this, he whispered in his ear, _“Sleep John, sleep until I wake you.”_

 

Sherlock passed a censoring look first to Moriarty who was forced to cower on the floor, under the weight of Sherlock's power. Sherlock then sought out each high level vampire, making sure to touch the mind on each and every one of them in attendance and then he strolled out of the club, the doors thrown wide open under the power of his wrath.

 

Sherlock took an unconventional way home not wanting to subject John to prying eyes and humiliation. He flew them home. It wasn’t what one would think of as flying when flying came to mind. It was more along the lines of really high, really far leaps. If he jumped high enough he basically glided back down at a slow rate and could cover long distances in that manner.

 

When he reached home he took John to his room preparing to clean him up. Sherlock took John’s soiled pants and trousers along with the shirt to be washed. Normally he would just throw the clothes out rather than be bothered with cleaning them, but he really liked the way the trousers had fit John. What a disappointing end to such a promising night. Sherlock brought a basin filled with warm water and soap to John’s bedside, wiping him down quickly and efficiently, forcing himself to stay objective and not take notice of the slightly tanned, toned body beneath his hand.

Sherlock quickly finished his task and covered John up with his blankets. Whispering in John’s ear again he sent a gentle compulsion, _“Sleep well, sleep ‘til you are fully rested. And know my dear John, I am very sorry things turned out the way they did.”_ Sherlock turned out the light and backed out of John’s room pulling the door closed behind him.

 

John woke up feeling refreshed, he sat up stretching, the blanket pooled at his waist. Looking down frowning at his nakedness, he was suddenly hit with the memory of what had transpired the night before. _Moriarty_. John looked down at himself again. Apparently Sherlock had played nursemaid when they reached home the night before.

 

John showered and then headed to the kitchen to find food.  He was amazed that he didn't have a hangover. John was rummaging around in the refrigerator when he felt Sherlock walk in. “Morning.” he called out over his shoulder.

 

Sherlock hesitated before responding, trying to gauge John’s mood. He didn’t sound angry, in fact, he sounded downright cheerful. “Good day John. It’s after 4 in the afternoon.”

 

John turned to face Sherlock. “You’re putting me on? I slept, what, twelve hours?”

“16.”

John sat down heavily in the seat across from Sherlock. “Why’d you let me sleep so long?”

You had quite a bit of blood lost last night. You slept as long as you needed.”

“Speaking of blood lost, why is this not healed,” John gestured to his chest where Sherlock had bit him the night before, “yet this is?” he finished as he gestured to his neck where Moriarty had bit into him none too gently.

Sherlock didn’t sense an ounce of ire from John; he had come to realize that John was prone to bouts of angry outburst; and Sherlock felt last night would be a justified reason for John to be angry; the fact he didn’t seem to be was sort of worrying him. “Our saliva has a rapid healing agent in it’s make up. Rapid healing ensures no scars. Our blood also has a healing agent, but at a much slower rate. The mark on your chest I rubbed with my blood, it’ll be gone in a matter of days. Whereas the bite on your neck, as soon as we were out of the club, I cleaned the wound and sealed it.”

“I see. And what about the hangover I should be nursing right now?”

“My blood that you ingested, it burned off the alcohol almost as soon as you drank it.”

John looked at Sherlock with wide disbelieving eyes. “I felt the effects of the alcohol. I _felt_ intoxicated.”

“Apparently, that is another one of your quirky reactions to us vampires.”

John cursed under his breath. “So this has never happened to any other humans that you are aware of?”

“To be honest John, I have never taken any other humans under my protection, therefore I have never fed my blood to a human before you.”

John didn’t want to examine the smug satisfaction he was feeling too closely, it felt a lot like possessiveness.

Sherlock continued, “But the times I’ve seen Morty feed his blood to humans it didn’t have that effect, but you have to keep in mind they would’ve already been enthralled, under his compulsion. So I’m not really sure.” Sherlock looked away from John, staring at the floor, and then looking back up at him, determined, “John, why aren't you angry with me about last night.”

 

John looked genuinely shocked by Sherlock’s question. “It wasn’t your fault Sherlock. If blame is going to placed anywhere it should be with me. I could’ve controlled myself better. I could’ve opened my eyes at any point and saw that it was Moriarty. But, I was just trying to, I don’t know just let go of everything and just be in that moment. I guess.”

“You’ve been working extremely hard and I can understand your wanting to live a little.”

John stared at Sherlock, “Are you feeling guilty Sherlock?”

Avoiding eye contact again, Sherlock answered honestly. “Yes. When I saw Moriarty approach you, my first instinct was to snatch you away from him. I should’ve followed my instinct. I know Morty, I knew he would try something.”

John reached across the table and wrapped his fingers loosely around Sherlock’s, “Maybe so, but the whole point of me being there was to try out my rare yet impressive vampire repellant skills. You were right not to interfere until Moriarty had overstepped his bounds. When he became too much for me to handle. So thank you for trusting in my ability to handle the situation myself and for coming to my rescue when it was clear that no I couldn't.”

 

John took his hand back, having made his point he stood up and went about making himself something to eat. Halfway through eating his meal John looked at Sherlock and announced, "I want to go back tonight.”


	6. Preparation

Sherlock looked at John, mouth opening and closing like a fish, eyes just as wide. “Why on earth would you want to go back?”

“It would be a good mental workout. I want to try again Sherlock. I still have the mark on my chest and I assume your blood is still in my system, or do I need to partake of that delicacy again?”

Sherlock sighed, “Fine. We’ll go again. But! I may have threatened every high level vampire there last night and made every low level vamp bow to me.”

John looked at Sherlock incredulously.

“What? Don’t look at me like that, it was a moment of weakness. I lost control.”

“ _You_ don’t lose control. When did this even happen?”

“After Moriarty bit you. I seriously didn’t intend to unleash my power. I have actually been playing down my strength for quite some time; but, the cats out the bag now.”

“Why would you want other vampires to think you’re weaker than you really are?”

“One, because of the vampire council and their threats. Two, the less people see me as an actual threat the more peaceful life can be. And three, if I am underestimated, I will always have the upper hand.”

“I see, all good points. But if you are as strong and powerful as you say, in comparison to other vampires, then why would anyone in their right mind come after you?”

“Fear John. Fear is a strange bedfellow and often lead to foolish acts.”

 

“Okay, moving alone. Blood? Is it needed?”

“You certainly are determined, aren’t you?”

John just stared at Sherlock.

“All right then. Yes. Because you lost a good amount of blood last night you would need to drink more. But might I suggest, not straight from the tap this time?”

“Fine.”

“John I must say I was quite impressed with the fact that you maintained your wall throughout that whole ordeal last night. Right up to me compelling you to sleep.”

“Thank you. I felt like I was on the edge of some sort of revelation last night. That’s why I want to go back. But, considering you pose a threat to everyone in the club, is there another club or vampire hang out we might go to instead?”

Sherlock looked thoughtful and shook his head, “No. None of the other vampire friendly places in London have the numbers or high level vampires we need. Perhaps, I can walk you in the club and then pretend to leave. That way we can also test if you can actually reach me mentally.”

“Couldn’t we test that theory here?”

“True. Finish your food so we can get on with it.” Sherlock abandon his seat in excitement and headed out the door.

 

“Oh John! I washed your trousers if you’ll be wanting to wear them again.” Sherlock waited in the doorway for a reply.

“Actually Sherlock, I felt rather silly and under dressed last night. Mind if we go shopping?”

Sherlock’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, and it scared John to think what that look could mean.

“Not at all John. I will go to my room to get ready and order car service. Be ready in an hour.” With that Sherlock bounced off to his room mumbling happily under his breath.

 

The two men were seated comfortably in the back seat of a private car. Ten minutes had passed and Sherlock had been humming the entire time.

“Sherlock, may we speak freely?”

“Of course. I’ve already compelled him to ignore us completely. And when we get out of the vehicle he won’t even remember having picked us up.”

“All right then. I was thinking back at the house. You said you inadvertently tipped your hand to the rest of the vampires, showing them how much power you had amassed since...whenever. Well I have a question first, did you unleash, as you put it, all of your power? Or just a fraction of it?”

Sherlock looked down sheepishly. “I am embarrassed to say, I do not know, but I believe I let it all show.”

John frowned. “You weren’t kidding? You really did lose control?”

“Yes.”

“Well that takes me to my point, and what I was thinking. The other vampires don’t know it was an accident, so own up to the power increase. Or flaunt it if you will. You don’t have to be arrogant about it; but you escorting me into the club and then leaving will look like you’re running or hiding. Walk in there like you own the club.”

“I do.”

“Huh? Do what?”

“I own the club. The business is under an alias.”

“Well, you get my meaning nonetheless.”

“Yes. And you’re quite right. On the one hand, If I leave, others may think the power display was a fluke and I can’t truly back up my threat. That could work in my favor though, get me back to the status I was at before my faux pas. But on the other hand if I don’t go in there and back my word up, things may get ugly. People may start challenging me, assuming I'm an easy target.”

 

“What caused you to lose control Sherlock; if you don't mind me asking?”

Sherlock had hoped John _wouldn’t_ ask that question. “Seeing Moriarty with his hands all over you. I was able to feel...I was able to feel your need and how close you were. And then Moriarty turned, looked at me and smiled. I wanted to kill him. Like _really_ kill him.”

John sat quietly, digesting that little tidbit. Sherlock took his silence as a quiet censor of his behavior.

“Have you ever been able to feel my emotions or, ahem, needs before last night?”

“No.”

“Then it is safe to assume, your blood is the determining factor. That was the only thing done differently since we’ve entered into this agreement. Would you agree?”

Sherlock thought it over. Nodding his head after some time.

“I’m sorry Sherlock.”

“For?”

“Being the cause of your troubles as of late.”

Sherlock wasn’t sure how to respond to that, he finally responded with, “I don’t believe you to be a problem at all John. No apologies needed.”

 

They didn’t speak for the rest of the car ride, each lost in their own head.

 

“I am not coming out. I look ridiculous.” John argued from the other side of the fitting room curtain. They had been in two separate stores already and he now understood why Sherlock was so gleeful when John asked to go shopping. He loved playing dress up. Rather he was dressing up himself, or other people.

Sherlock burst through the curtain of the changing room.

“Sherlock!”

“Well you wouldn’t come out so it left me no choice but to come in.”

Sherlock tried to look over the current ensemble he had given John to try on. It had taken 30 minutes to talk him into even trying it on; there was no way he was going to miss him wearing it. The fitting room was small and the two men barely fit in there comfortably let alone Sherlock actually get a good look at John. Stepping back, Sherlock took the ends of the curtains and held them up around him so he could get a good look at John and allow John to remain hidden from others.

John was wearing tight black leather trouser and the shirt, wasn’t much of a shirt. It was a series of leather straps crisscrossing all over his upper body in a “shirt” like fashion. Sherlock’s mouth went dry taking in the sight. He could see how well the leather trousers cupped John’s arse in the mirror.

“Well say something Sherlock, you’re starting to freak me out just a bit.”

Sherlock dropped the curtain and strode forward, pushing John up against wall roughly and kissed him. His mouth coming down hard on John’s, teeth clashing in his hurry. He grazed his teeth over John’s bottom lip, producing a whine from him. Sherlock shoved his tongue in John’s mouth needing to taste him, wanting to lay claim to him right here in the fitting room; to hell with anyone else. Sherlock pressed hard into John allowing him to feel exactly how much he liked him in the outfit.

John was trying to catch his breath under the delicious onslaught of Sherlock’s kiss. Unfortunately, he was human and needed to breath. He pressed against Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock pulled away looking at John with questioning eyes. “I need to breath Sherlock.”

While John panted trying to catch his breath Sherlock nuzzled his neck, “You look anything _but_ ridiculous in this John. As it is, I will have visions of you wearing this running through my head for a very long time.” Sherlock bit his tongue hard and leaned down kissing John again slower this time. John understood Sherlock was opting to give him the blood now and in this manner, he placed a hand on the back of Sherlock's neck and sucked his tongue into his mouth, drawing blood out slowly. After a few moments the kiss turned heated again. Sherlock had his hands filled with John’s arse, gripping, kneading it while they desperately grinded against each other.

John pulled away frantically. “Sherlock. Sherlock. Sherlock. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop, we need to stop.”

Sherlock growled low, menacingly. John thought he saw a flash of blue in his eyes. Weird.

 

Sherlock hearing himself growl stepped away from John. “Take it off.” he demanded in a low tone. “And then pass them to me.” He turned and walked out of the fitting room.

What was it about John Watson that made him lose all control and common sense?

John’s hand appeared through the curtain, holding out the clothes. Sherlock took them gently and handed him another outfit.

While he gave John time to try it on, he walked to the sales counter and gave the leather outfit to the woman. “I want to purchase these and I will be back with more.”

 

When Sherlock returned to the fitting room John was stepping out, he now had on a pair of soft suede trousers, in black of course and a sheer black shirt with a high neck and bell cuffs. Both the top of the shirt and cuffs were made of short’ frilly lace. John looked very old world and the shirt was practical. It showed off his vampire bite beautifully and there was no easy access to his neck. “Perfetto!”

John blushed.

“We’ll take it then?”

“Yes. I will compromise with _this_ outfit. It’s not really my style, it’s more you…” John changed back into his clothes and brought out all the clothes. The pile he was keeping he handed to Sherlock and the other to the sales lady to return.

 

Later that night John was in his room. He was dressed, as was Sherlock. They did not get the chance to practice connecting mentally, because John hadn’t realized what a drama queen and fashionista Sherlock was. So here they were, eleven o’clock at night, trying to communicate telepathically. If someone had asked him three months ago if he even thought something like that was possible, he would have said no.

John’s cell phone went off.

**_Concentrate. - SH_ **

John typed back a response.

**_I AM bloody concentrating._ **

**_You can do this. Stop wasting time. - SH_ **

**_I’m trying Sherlock!_ **

**_“Do or do not. There is no try.” - SH_ **

Was he seriously quoting Star Wars to him?

 

John sat the phone down and thought of Sherlock. He thought of the fact that Sherlock's blood coursed through his veins. He thought how it made him connected to the vampire. He saw an image of Sherlock sitting indian style in the center of his bed. Sherlock opened his eyes and seem to be looking right at John.

_“John?”_

John heard Sherlock’s voice resonate in his head. He got excited. _Did he do it?_ In his excitement he lost the image of Sherlock. He tried the same process as before. It took a little longer but eventually an image of Sherlock surfaced. Same as before. This time when Sherlock spoke John concentrated on what he could see in the limited surroundings around Sherlock. He decided to speak. “Are you able to hear me Sherlock?”

_“Yes.”_

John decided to try speaking to Sherlock telepathically. _“How about now?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Can you see me?”_

_“No. But I feel you.”_

_“Well, I see you._ John could hear Sherlock scoff at him.

_“What am I wearing?”_

“ _From your position on the bed, I would say black dress trousers, and a black shirt.”_

_“Luc-”_

_“But, I also get an impression of laces. Not like shoe laces, fancier. And a cape, black. Tell me you’re not wearing a cape tonight?”_

No answer.

 

John got up, going to Sherlock’s room, and to his surprise, Sherlock was sitting indian style on his bed in all black.

Sherlock looked over at John when he walked in, not saying anything he stood up. John was able to see Sherlock’s shirt laced up in the front, like the old peasant style shirts. He picked up a folded black garment from his bed, letting it unfurl. It was a black cape with a crushed red velvet liner.

John gasped.

 

Sherlock swung the cape around his shoulders fastening it about his neck. “I do believe we are ready.”

  



	7. Liam

John and Sherlock sat at the same booth that Sherlock had occupied the night before. They hadn’t devised a plan or course of action. Sherlock walked in and sat down gracefully and John followed. Deciding to let his instincts lead him.

 

John sat on the edge of his seat, watching the sea of writhing bodies. _“Do you feel that? So much pressure.”_  John sent the thought to Sherlock, imagining his voice going through a tunnel directly and only to Sherlock.

_“I do. It is the weight of the attention from so many powerful beings; their combined powers in a way.”_

 

John felt a subtle poke at his mind. Looking around the club discreetly his eyes landed on who he thought was the perpetrator. A man of undisclosed age stood in the middle of the crowd not moving. When he and John’s eyes locked he smiled and waved in a friendly manner, fingers wiggling. John frowned. The man began walking through the dancing vampires. When he reached their table he smiled warmly and plopped down next to John.

“Hi, I’m Liam. You’re Sherlock, everyone knows that. But, you,” the man said turning towards John, their knees touching, “no one knows who this short glass of scotch is.” He wink at John, still smiling.

John shivered as Sherlock allowed some of his power to roll over him and into the newcomer.

 

Liam looked at Sherlock frowning slightly, “Oh put it away Sherly. I’m not interested in having a pissing contest with you or anyone else; and I’m not here to put moves on your soon to be partner. You two are destined for each other. You’re just a bit slow on the uptake, that's all. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.”

 

Sherlock was completely taken aback by this very talkative, very bold and flamboyant vampire. His age was hard to pinpoint and he talked with ease around him, that made Sherlock smile; inwardly of course. No one talked to him like that except for John. “What is it that you are here for then?” Sherlock asked. He was itching to place a possessive hand on John’s neck or knee, anywhere really, just so his point was made.

 

Liam looked at Sherlock like he was being slow. “To help him out of course.” He gestured with a tick of his head in John’s direction.

Sherlock went deathly still. What did he mean by help _him_ out?

“What do you mean, help me out?” John asked out loud.

 

“For instance, you are shielding so hard you are starting to give yourself a headache." Sherlock glanced at John quickly, concern creasing his brow. "I can help you with certain skills, show you how to control them. You have a quiet, unassuming power about you. You're special love.”

Sherlock sat forward just a bit, flashing a bit of fang. “I haven’t told anyone. And I can almost guarantee you, like 96% sure, that no one else has picked up on his uniqueness. And they most likely never will. Unless he allows it, or slips up.”

“But vampires have superior hearing. They would have heard everything you’ve said.” John reasoned with him.

“Honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet. I’m a vampire and a psychic, I am far more superior than most vampires. Even on a bad day. They can't hear us unless _I_ want them to.”

“Why would you want to help us?” Sherlock questioned.

“I’m a bit bored with my life right now. Plus I feel like it is my duty to train him. My purpose even. So, when do I move in?”

 

John turned to Sherlock, the men stared at one another for a brief second, then out to the crowd while they communicated secretly. _“I like him Sherlock. I get a good vibe from him.”_

_“I do as well, but we should be cauti-”_

_“_ Don’t be rude. I know you two are talking telepathically.” Liam interrupted, sulking a bit.

John turned fully to Sherlock, “Sherlock?”

“Fine. But you aren’t moving in. You may come visit a couple of times and then we will see from there.”

“Eeee!" Liam squealed loudly, "I’m so excited! We are going to be the best of friends!” Liam shouted, causing Sherlock to wince from the abuse on his eardrums.

John smiled. Liam had a very infectious personality.

“Come dance with me." Liam said, addressing John, "You are a wonderful dancer when you let loose.”

John laughed. “Oh no, letting loose is not an option.”

“No need to worry about a repeat of last night. Moriarty isn’t even here, and I'm not interested in you in that way. No offense babe. Besides, you are in more control tonight than you were last night.” Liam bounced up dragging John with him, halting all arguments. 

Sherlock kept a careful watch on the two as they made their way to the dance floor.

 

Out on the dance floor there was a pop song playing so their dancing was neither fast nor slow. _“So. How much have you realized that you can do?”_ Liam questioned John while they danced.

John didn’t know the man, but he trusted him instinctively. _“Not much. How to shield and speak with Sherlock mind to mind. Oh and when we were practicing, I was able to see him but he wasn’t able to see me. It was strange.”_

_“Were you able to see him and his surroundings clearly?”_

_“No. I saw his face clearly, part of his body, everything is was more of an impression or feeling. Like the harder I focused the more unclear it got.”_

_“And how accurate were you with the impressions you picked up when viewing Sherlock?”_

_“Scarily accurate.”_

_“Remote viewing. Bloody hell you’re learning fast.”_

_“What is remote viewing?”_

_“Remote viewing is exactly as it sounds. It is when you concentrate on a person or location or even an object and you’re able to pull impressions and basically ‘see’ from a distance.”_

 

The men laughed and danced, just enjoying each other’s company. After a couple of dances John went to the bar and ordered a bottle water. He felt the vampire try and push a compulsion at him as he was ordering. He didn’t know what to do. Without even thinking he sent an SOS to Sherlock who was by his side instantly, and Liam flanked him on the other side. John stood there blankly, feeling like that was the right way to act.

Sherlock cradled John’s face between his hands and turned him so that they were looking at each other. He pretended to send a compulsion to John while letting power leak out to make the exchange seem legit.

John smiled up at Sherlock, making it seem like whatever Sherlock had said made him a happy agreeable human again. Sherlock tucked John beneath his arm, fanning his cape around John’s shoulders. Looking at the bartender he sent him a silent message. _“Do NOT tamper with what is mine. Let it happen again, and I will make an example out of you.”_ Sherlock pushed his power strictly into the other vamp, hard. The vampire began bleeding from his eyes and nose. Sherlock turned away with John. “Come along Liam.”

 

Once outside Sherlock turned to Liam. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome doll face. As long as I am around I will let no harm come to him.”

“John.” Sherlock said.

“Yes. I know. When I said no one knew who he was I meant other vampires. Well loves, the fun is over, I'm going to head home. Call me when you’re ready for me to come help.” Liam smiled and passed a business card to John. Blowing a final kiss to the duo Liam walked away from the club.

Sherlock passed his ticket to the valet attendant standing near. He had driven to the club tonight just in case there was any more trouble he would be able to get John out without being subjected to any prying eyes or humiliation.

Their car pulled up and Sherlock opened the door for John, giving the valet a menacing stare when he went to open the door for John.

John got into the passenger seat and waited for Sherlock to get in the car. “You’re such a bully.” John scolded lightly when they were on the road back home.

“What? Me? Never.”

John laughed lightly. “So, Liam?”

Sherlock turned and squinted at John.

“Uh Sherlock, please, watch the road.”

Sherlock turned his attention back to the road as he drove. “I suppose you find him handsome. And intriguing since you have so much in common.” Sherlock replied, unable to keep the jealousy from his voice.

John faced Sherlock, “Well, I am intrigued. I have never spoken to a psychic, let alone a vampire psychic who claims I am as well and can help me hone my skills. Handsome? Yeah, Liam is very good looking. And a great dancer.” John watched as Sherlock's fingers tightened around the steering wheel, “But, I am only interested in him on a scholarly level; what I can learn from him. He’s not my type anyways. I like my men taller. Brooding, smart, powerful and a tad bit jealous.” John smiled as he poked fun at Sherlock’s apparent jealousy. “Look Sherlock, even though you and I do not actually have anything going on, you don’t have to worry about me going all starry eyed over Liam. When I told you that I thought you were the most beautiful person I have ever seen, I meant that. You alone hold my attention.” John leaned back against his seat, closing his eyes.

 

Sherlock didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything. He was grateful that John didn’t push him for any return words of affection. Glancing over he saw that John had his eyes closed, but he knew the other man wasn’t sleep.

 

Once home, Sherlock stopped John from heading to his room, “I’m sorry John.”

“What for?”

“Another ruined outing.”

John walked over to Sherlock, patted the side of his face affectionately and smiled. “It wasn’t ruined. We did exactly as we had set out to do, no embarrassing moments from me, I’ll say we had a successful night.” John fingertips were brushing the edges of Sherlock’s curls, he tugged lightly and angled his head up, Sherlock taking the hint met him halfway. They kissed with the ease and unhurried movements of a long established couple. John pulled away saying goodnight and headed to his own room.

Sherlock retired to his room, undressing and jumping in the shower. He thought about what Liam had said about John and himself. John’s own words adding themselves to Sherlock’s musings. He liked John. And the past month of them cohabiting his house has done nothing but deepen that fondness for the human. He suppose going by John’s words, he also felt the same towards Sherlock. He spent longer in the shower than usual, lost in his thoughts. When he exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist he was greeted by John asleep in his bed. He smiled. He wondered what had brought the human to his bed. Turning out the lights he dried off in the dark, throwing his towel over a chair. Climbing in the bed beside John he was surprised to find out John was nude. _Dammit. Another waste of a promising night._ He thought as he pulled John into his arms and went to sleep.

 

John came awake slowly, he was extremely warm and comfortable. Opening his eyes he was greeted by a pair of startling blue ones.

“Good morning John.”

John smiled and placed a chaste kiss against Sherlock's lips.

“Imagine my surprise to come out the shower to see you asleep, in my bed and naked.”

“Sorry bout that. I guess I was more tired than I thought. You take a ridiculously long time in the shower.”

“Not normally. Had I known you were waiting for me I would’ve finished a lot sooner.”

“I like it here.” John mumbled, closing his eyes again.

“Well, I figured you would. Remember the night I asked you to move in I said I was taking you to one of my favorite places. My home is my sanctuary. Now it is yours too.” Sherlock was running his fingers lazily up and down John’s back.

After a couple of minutes John mumbled again, “No. I meant here, laying with you. I like it. I don't want to move ever again.”

 

The men lay in silence for quite some time when Sherlock heard John mumble something against his chest. “John, you’re going to have to move your head, I can’t understand you.”

John shifted, "I said, there aren’t any secret ways to incapacitate you, are there?”

Sherlock looked down at John to see him looking up sleepily. “What is this about John?”

Sighing John struggled to sit up, instead he settled on propping himself up on his elbow. “You told me garlic, holy water and sunlight doesn't stop a vampire. So it is safe to assume if anyone ever wanted to stop you, they would have to kill you outright, correct?”

Sherlock sat all the way up leaning his back against the wall. “I’m not sure if I follow.”

John lay back on his back. “I’m not sure I can explain my concern properly Sherlock. Like, lets say you and I are out and we are attacked by humans, no worries cause you’re super powerful and I have combat training. But if we are ever attacked by vampires, I am at your mercy to keep me safe, and let's say the vampire or vampires know of a way to drug you or knock you out temporarily, I am in deep trouble.” Sherlock absently ran his fingers through John’s short hair. “You needn’t be concerned with that John. I assure you I am strong enough to defend you in any scenario.”

John smiled sadly, “That’s kinda the issue Sherlock. I want to be be able to help. In both my own safe keeping and yours. I need to know the things I have to be on the lookout for.”

Sherlock finally understood what John was getting at. John didn’t like feeling like the damsel in distress, he wanted to feel like an equal. “Well John, there aren’t many things that can kill a vampire _dead_. But, beheading is one way. Destroying the heart is another. Staking a vampire won’t kill us. We’ll just heal back. We can quite literally heal all wounds with enough time except for beheading and not having a heart. It’s what makes us the perfect and most dangerous predators. Now with that being said, if we are injured bad enough we can take a very long time to heal, human blood helps speed up the process. And on the other hand, drinking human blood from a person who has been dead more than 24 hours can make us sick. But those two scenarios are the only two I can think of that could disable a vamp temporarily. Oh and I guess we could be compelled to behead ourselves or rip our own hearts out. But both of those would be extremely hard to do.”

John blinked up at him with wide eyes. “Well then. I think I need to use the loo. Do you have to, I mean do vampires have to make use of the facilities?”

Sherlock smiled, “Yes. If we choose to eat and drink human food, then yes, it has to pass through our bodies just like yours.”

  
John scrambled out of the bed slowly, heading to Sherlock's bathroom.

Sherlock watched John's naked backside until he disappeared out of view. Sighing Sherlock got up, pulling his dressing gown on, walking to the kitchen to begin making breakfast for his John.


	8. Practice, Interrupted

John was dressed and sitting at the table eating. Sherlock had prepared eggs, bacon, coffee and toast. It was actually very good. 

“I didn’t know you could cook Sherlock. This is really good. Thank you.”

Sherlock sat across from John sipping some coffee of his own. “John, look at me.”

John placed another fork full into his mouth and then looked at Sherlock, “Hmm?”

Sherlock tried to push a compulsion. 

Frowning John wiped his mouth and stood walking over to Sherlock. He bent down and kissed him softly on the lips. Returning to his seat he looked at Sherlock still frowning, “What was that all about Sherlock? If you wanted a kiss you could have just asked instead of trying to compel me to do so.”

“I needed to be sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“That you are you.”

“What? Of course I’m me, who else would I be?” John went back to eating his food.

“Well it just seemed very odd, first finding you willing in my bed last night and then this morning questioning me about possible weaknesses. I had to be sure.”

John blinked absently at Sherlock. “And again, if not me, who would I be? Are there creatures capable of actual shape shifting?” 

“There are all manners of creatures in this world. But you John, are the  _ only _ one I have found that I cannot compel.”

“Good to know there is a foolproof plan to test that I am who I say I am.”

“Indeed.”

 

Sherlock and John sat and made small talk while John finished his breakfast. “So you’re telling me, fairies actual exist?”

“Yes.”

“And they come in all different colors, shape and sizes?”

“Uh huh.”

“Sooo, they are neither like the fairies in Lord of The Rings or like Tinkerbell?”

“John, it’s simple. Just as humans come in every shape, color and size, so do the Fae.”

“So they aren’t small like Tinkerbell, they just differ in size like humans; like tall, petite, slender, chubby?”

Sighing Sherlock got up placing his coffee cup in the sink. He stretched his arms above his head yawning. 

John stared at him. In the process of his stretching Sherlock’s dressing gown had wormed it’s way open, giving John an unobstructed view of Sherlock's body from head to the ending of his happy trail. John licked his lips finding himself wishing the gown would work it’s way completely open. He pictured it in his mind, the tie becoming undone and the parts of the dressing gown sliding open. 

 

“John?”

John sat up straight, blinking back his fantasy. Absently he looked away from Sherlock and back again. Sherlock’s gown now lay open, fully. “Did...D-did I, um, do that?” He asked, fearing he knew the truth.

Sherlock smiled cockily. “Yesss.” He drew out the s as he approached John, straddling his lap. “If you wanted to see me naked, you only had to ask.” he teased.

John avoided Sherlock’s gaze, but there was nowhere safe to look. There was a practically naked vampire, Sherlock, on his lap. John turned his head, looking to the left. Sherlock leaned forward, taking advantage, he trailed feather light kisses from John’s earlobe to his shoulder and back again. Running his tongue along the shell of his ear and then tugging lightly with his teeth. 

John’s breathing sped up, his eyes closed, and his body reacting to the sensations. 

Sherlock smiled wickedly against John’s neck, licking along his throbbing vein, letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin. Sherlock began grinding his hips down against John’s growing erection.

John panted, his need growing with each rotation of Sherlock’s hips. He balled his hands into fist as his arms hung down beside him. 

“Touch me John.” Sherlock whispered against his ear, biting lightly. 

John shivered, slowly bringing his hands up resting on Sherlock’s undulating hips. 

When he heard Sherlock’s whispered, “Yes.” he allowed his hands to travel under the gaping dressing gown, taking Sherlock's firm arse in hand and kneading it. Sherlock moaned, his head falling back. John looked at the man in his arms, taking the gesture as an invitation, he began his own exploration of Sherlock's neck. Nipping the skin, licking along the long white column; biting down hard at the juncture of his neck and jaw. Sherlock bucked against him. 

John began rocking his hips up to meet Sherlock's.  John nipped at Sherlock’s chin, Sherlock lowered his head allowing John access to what he sought. 

Crushing their mouths together in a dance old as time, John brought his own hands up Sherlock’s back, gripping his shoulders, holding the vampire tightly to him. 

“Johnnn...nnnnnm.”

“Yes...Sherlock...ohhh.”

The men rocked and thrust against one another kissing and biting, reaching for their release. Sherlock broke first. Tearing his mouth away from John’s he cried out his release as he convulsed against the man holding him. 

John gripped him harder, chasing his own orgasm, “Yes. Yes. Oh...you sound so...Sherlock...bite me.”

Sherlock lazily trailed his tongue over the pulse in John’s neck. 

“Pppleeeease Sher....please...make me come.”

Sherlock couldn’t deny such a request. He sank his teeth into John’s neck. Sucking slowly. 

John trusted erratically against Sherlock, saying his name repeatedly, and then stars exploded behind his eyes, crying out one last time he came, joining Sherlock in blessed euphoria. 

Sherlock licked over his bite, healing it.

 

They leaned against one another, John trying to catch his breath and Sherlock fighting not to bite John again. It was something about his blood that called to him. Plus he hadn’t fed properly in a couple of days. He stood up abruptly; “Let’s go clean up John, we’ll be having company soon.” The men unspokenly decided to shower separately, trying to avoid anymore possible distractions.

 

Hours later John sat on the couch with Liam while Sherlock lounged in John’s favorite chair, turned _his_ favorite chair. Liam was currently trying to help John shield more effectively, without getting headaches. 

“Okay. Now just imagine the wall there, separating your private thoughts from the world. Don’t picture yourself building it, just see it there, already whole.”

John did as instructed.

“Very good, now I want you to think about something you wouldn’t want either Sherlock or myself knowing. Make sure that it’s something juicy, something that would elicit some sort of emotion from you either by thinking it or if we were to find out. What this should do is help you during times you are feeling emotional."

John thought about what Liam was saying. Something that would embarrass him if they found out. 

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be embarrassment. Could be fear. Or any other emotion, just so that it is strong."

John nodded his understanding and closed his eyes. Picturing his wall up again, he thought,  _ “I think I’m falling for you Sherlock.”   _ He was definitely scared to say that to Sherlock directly. After thinking it, with apprehension, he peeked out of one eye, looking first at Liam and then at Sherlock. Sherlock squinted at him. Liam was beaming and had his hands clasped in front of him. 

“Yay!” Liam shouted suddenly, startling both John and Sherlock. “Very good John.” Liam moved his arms around in a little dance. “I knew you could do it. You’re a natural.  Besides, I am sure it’s very helpful not to have Sherlock rushing you for results.”

“In Sherlock’s defense, him badgering me got results the last time.” 

“Yes. But not the results you wanted. Didn’t the results from this morning feel far more rewarding and less rushed?” Liam asked grinning.

Sherlock’s head snapped over look to John.  _ “I swear I didn’t tell him. Well not on purpose. I wasn’t shielding well enough _ _. Sorry.” _

Sherlock relaxed back into _ his  _ seat.  _ “No apologies needed. I am not ashamed of our actions. And yes, it was rewarding.” _

 

John turned his attention back to Liam. “I have a question. Is it possible to speak to more than one person telepathically at the same time?”

“Let’s try it.” Liam encouraged.

John pictured a tunnel leading to both Sherlock and Liam.

“Uh un hun. Not like that. That takes too much energy. Simply picture the two of us and speak.”

John tried doing it that way. He pictured Liam and then Sherlock and said  _ “Hi.” _

Sherlock replied back, “Bonjour ma vie.” _Hello my love._

Liam on the other hand just stared at him blankly.

“So, I’m guessing you didn’t hear it?” John asked.

Liam shook his head no. 

Sighing John tried again. This time he pictured Sherlock and Liam standing side by side and said,  _ “Thank you.” _

“For what?” came Sherlock response. 

And Liam spoke back to them both telepathically,  _ “So, Sherly, when can I move in? I am trustworthy and John approves.” _

_“One successful training session does not constitute moving you in just yet. And yes, I am well aware that John approves, but his safety is my utmost concern.”_ Sherlock said.

Liam pouted. “Party pooper.”

_ “Sherlock is plenty fun.”  _ John thought to the two of them and then bust out laughing.

Liam smiled and Sherlock frowned. 

“Why is that funny? I am fun.”

John pictured himself patting Sherlock against the cheek. Sherlock jumped. He’d felt it. John’s eyes got big.

“Seriously John, there is almost no limit to the things you can do boo. Practice, practice, practice. But as you are finding out, being relaxed and at ease helps the ability to flow easier. Let’s try something else, similar to what we did a moment ago but different. Say something intimate or emotional or whatever to one of us, purposely _excluding_ the other. Oh, but keep your eyes open. You want to learn to be discreet when using your abilities. If you’re closing your eyes every time the shit hits the fan, people will either think you’re a pansy or guess what you’re actually doing. Both are no good.”

John smiled amicably and stared forward, not looking at either man.  _ “I enjoyed what happened between us in the kitchen this morning. I look forward to more. And, FYI, you need to feed.” _

Sherlock frowned at John. He found that he was doing that a lot. “How do you know that?” he asked out loud.

“I can feel your hunger.”

“He’s not lying. I felt it too. I have an idea.” Liam said clapping his hands and standing up, clearly excited, let’s go out. Sherlock you need to feed and John needs to see how you do it.”

Sherlock looked at John, clearly worried.

“What? It’s perfectly normal. Well, for you at least." Sherlock said nothing, clearly not sold on the idea. "Seriously Sherlock, I’ve felt you feed on me. It doesn’t bother me. But you know what does? You starving yourself because you're concerned with how I will perceive you.” John’s head turned suddenly towards the front door.

 

“Oh. Wasn’t that touching. Sherlock, I think he’s a keeper. But you know that already, don’t you. But does John know what a stalker you are?” 

 

“Liam, Moriarty, Moriarty, Liam. Now please leave Morty, we were just about to go out.”

“Yesss, I know. To feeeed; I need to feed too. Can I come along?”

Three set of eyes watched Moriarty.

“I promise to behave.” 

John didn’t understand why he hadn’t had more warning Moriarty was there? He also had noticed that he no longer found Moriarty’s nasally sing song voice appealing. Or scary for that matter. He made sure to avoid eye contact with Moriarty, even thought he was sure he didn’t need to, they all had agreed that that info was on a need to know basis. Better to play the cautious human, that the blatantly stupid one. 

Sherlock and Liam must've felt the same way because Liam said out loud, don’t forget John, don' look him, or any other vampire in the eye.”

“I know Liam, I wasn’t looking him in the eye, I was looking at his shoulder.”John intentionally sounded annoyed. 

“John, be a dear and go get ready. Liam, make sure it’s appropriate. The grown ups need to talk.”

 

John got up, keeping his eyes averted, he sent a message to Sherlock,  _ “Call us if you need us. I mean it! You are not at full strength.” _

Sherlock scoffed inwardly. _ “Noted.” _

John walked pass Moriarty, careful to keep his distance. Liam however gave his little signature wave, wiggling his fingers and sashayed by.

 

In John’s room Liam chose to speak mind to mind. “ _ You are one smart cookie. You think quick on your toes, and you’re learning to shield automatically if you feel a threat is near. Good job boo.” _

_ “Thanks. But why didn’t I sense him before he walked through the door? Sherlock and I had already concluded that-” _

_ “Ooh. John will look absolutely stunning in that! Sherlock will be so happy! Eeeek!”  _ Liam interrupted and John shrugged at him, as to ask "W _ hat was that all about?" _

 

_ “Moriarty was testing me, so I made sure my thoughts were as menial as possible. And Sherlock eluded that I’m the hired help so the speak, why not tease him with how good you’re gonna look.” _

John laughed.

_ “But to answer your question, I sense Fae magic around him. Not a lot of people can sense it, but I have an eighth of fae in my bloodline. I think he is using an amulet of some sort; maybe to boost his power or to boost certain powers. Be careful around him John, he’s like an unknown threat now. We don’t know what he has available to him.” _

_ “All right, I'll be careful. So, I will show you what outfits we bought the other night and you tell me which one is drool worthy.” _

_ “Oh no hun, I already saw in Sherlock’s mind which outfit you’re gonna wear. And before you get all huffy, he didn’t suggest it, I just kind of saw him thinking about it. Don’t tell him though. I will.” _

_ “All right. So which one was it?” _

 

Sherlock and Moriarty were having a battle of wills in the sitting room. John was correct, Sherlock wasn’t at full strength and he didn’t need to be with Moriarty. But even with that being said Sherlock felt a spike in his ex-lovers power. He hadn't been this strong during their last run in. Or Moriarty had been faking quite admirably. 

“Sherlock, you’ve been a naughty boy.”

“That’s none of your business.” Sherlock said, assuming Moriarty was referring to John.

“Oh dear, I don’t mean John. Yes, I can smeeell him all over you; but I was talking about how you have grown in power again. And you didn’t even come tell daddy. I’m hurt.”

Sherlock hated that Moriarty insisted on calling himself daddy, it grated on his nerves. But like with most things, Sherlock pretended to not be bothered by it at all. 

 

“Quit with the games Morty, why are you here? What do you want?”

Moriarty stepped in close to Sherlock, so close that when he spoke next Sherlock could feel his breath graze his lips. "I’m here to observe. Everyone at the club the other night felt your power Sherlock. The council asked that I observe you and decide rather you are a threat.”

“Since when did you become the council's little-”

 

“Ahem ahem, gentlemen.” Liam interrupted from the door. 

Moriarty looked at Sherlock's lips and leaned forward as if he was going to try something. Sherlock held his ground. Staring at Moriarty until the other man turned toward Liam. Sherlock felt how still Moriarty had gone, curious as to what had his attention, Sherlock looked up. Standing in the doorway was Liam and John. Sherlock couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face if he wanted to.  _ “Perfetto.”  _ he told his boys. John stood there in the leather outfit that Sherlock had bought secretly after John so adamantly refused to wearing it in public. Yet here he was, a walking wet dream. Sherlock licked his lips and he could feel his body stir as he looked at the only human in the room. And he was  _ his _ . 

John smiled tentatively, he had caught the last bit of Sherlock’s thought. He was sure everyone had, he had been  _ broadcasting _ so loudly.

“Ahem.” came Liam’s voice again.

Sherlock and Moriarty both finally looked at the other vampire in the room. Sherlock’s jaw literally dropped. He didn’t even recognize the vamp. 

 

Moriarty smiled lecherously, making Liam’s skin crawl. He had heard rumors about Moriarty. That he wasn’t really into men or women. He was into power. And sex made him feel powerful, if it was done on his terms. He used sex and sexual innuendos as a weapon. One that he brandished with skill and ease. Liam made sure he smiled widely and made his thoughts as self absorbed and approval seeking as possible. 

John looked over at Liam, he still couldn’t believe the transformation and he had witnessed it first hand. No longer standing there was the slim built, dirty blond haired, green eyed model material vampire from earlier. Now, standing before them was a black haired beauty. 

Liam had brought a bag in with him when he had arrived earlier, stating it was just in case Sherlock consented to let him move in now. But in the room he confided in John that he never left home without this bag, because he never knew when he would need it. 

He was wearing black fishnet stockings and stiletto heels in blood red. A pvc pleated, school girl skirt and a white button down blouse tied up, showing off his well defined midriff. His makeup was artfully applied, he'd given himself a minimal smokey eye look, with blood red lipstick. And to top it all off, he was wearing a black, curly bob style wig. 

 

John was picking up on Liam’s fake thoughts and Moriarty’s lustful ones. He was debating on which one of them he would have first. John rolled his eyes, he couldn’t help it. He wouldn’t willingly let Moriarty lay a finger on him. He looked to Sherlock, Sherlock was already looking at him. It was so heated and filled with desire, John swore his blood was beginning to boil. It pleased him to know that even with Sherlock’s ex in the room and Liam looking like a whole bag of sin, that _he_ was the one Sherlock chose to focus on. He could feel himself blushing.

 

Sherlock cleared his throat. “I must get ready. I am not one to be out done, as you know Morty. But I must ask you to leave, you may meet us at  _ After Dark _ ."

“Fine.” Moriarty said with ease, not picking a fight. As he walked by John and Liam he flicked his tongue at them in an obscene gesture and strode out the door. 

 

Liam walker over to the couch and sagged into it with relief clearly etched on his face. “I laid out something for you to wear Sherlock. And I hope you don’t mind John’s outfit. I got a glimpse of it and where you had hidden it earlier.”

“Mind? Heavens no. If you saw that thought, I must apologize for what else you must have saw. But I should be thanking you for getting him in that blessed outfit.”

“Yeah, yeah go get dress doll. I am in a hurry to get this dreadful business over with."


	9. To Hell in a Handbasket

John and Liam flanked Sherlock. They had an image to uphold now. Sherlock was their master, only in public of course, and he was suppose to come before them.

 

John was okay with the arrangement tonight. It meant that he got to walk behind Sherlock and admire his great arse. And it enabled him to hide from everyone. He still felt he looked ridiculous in his outfit; even if Sherlock looked like he wanted to throw him on the floor and shag him dirty.

 

They were at a human club called _After Dark._ Sherlock had informed them that Moriarty was there on official council business, to ensure that he wasn’t anymore a threat than he was the last time they sent someone to spy on him.

John wasn’t sure how this outing was to go really. Initially it was so Sherlock could feed and John could observe all the while Liam would be coaching him. But now with Moriarty dogging their every move he wasn’t sure their original plan was viable.

Utilizing his new skill, John spoke to his two comrades. _“So obviously, when Moriarty shows up I am to morph back into poor stupid human mode, so what am I to do while he’s here? I can't practice, it’ll be too risky.”_

Liam responded first, _“We dance, have fun.”_

_“You keep your eyes on me at all times. If we get separated or Morty tries something, call me.”_

John nodded.

“I am going to try and feed quickly before Moriarty gets here so you can at least witness me feeding on one person.”

“I don’t understand why you just can’t feed on me.”

“Because it can be dangerous to continuously feed on the same person. It’s better to feed from multiple donors. Like Sherlock takes a small amount of blood from multiple people so he doesn't risk drinking too much and he doesn't have to worry about the person getting light headed or weak from blood lost.” Liam explained further.

Sherlock moved away from his boys. Searching for a willing partner. The thing about _After Dark_ , it was a goth club that specialized in romanticizing vampires. And the humans that frequented this club often dressed up in cheesy vampire gear and pretended to drink blood from a glass. It made it easy to find a willing partner, all Sherlock had to do was flash his fangs and people flocked to him. Sherlock approached a woman, he smiled broadly making sure to flash his fangs. The woman smiled flashing her own set of plastic teeth.

Sherlock held out his hand and she went to him instantly. He lead her to the back where no prying eyes could see him.

Liam led John closer so that he could watch Sherlock feed without actually being seen by Sherlock’s donors.

 

There had been no sign of Moriarty and John had watched as Sherlock fed on 3 different women. He began to doubt what he _thought_ was developing between Sherlock and himself. He started to fidget when Sherlock lead a fourth woman to the back.

Liam was standing quietly beside John and was getting waves of uncertainty peppered with sadness from the smaller man. “Don’t worry John, he is only feeding on so many so that he can take the absolute minimal from each.”

“But why women? One would reason he would want to feed from people he find attractive.”

“Yes, most vampires operate that way. But Sherlock is feeding on women because he is _not_ in the least bit attracted to them. He is being thoughtful.”

It made sense to John, and put his concern to rest. That was until a man stumbled from out of a door behind Sherlock. When the man looked up to apologize for running into Sherlock, John could tell they knew each other. Recognition lit up both of their faces. The man began speaking to Sherlock animatedly, reaching out and touching him every chance he could.

 

Sherlock looked at the man in front of him and cursed inwardly. It was Jericho, a man he use to feed on regular. He really enjoyed the taste of his blood and always found himself taking a bit more than necessary so he stopped feeding on him altogether. It had been several months since he’d seen the man. This wasn’t good. In the past he had always planted in the man’s mind that he was so tired because he and Sherlock had engaged in wild and rough sex. It was the type of sex that Jericho liked, and he knew Jericho was attracted to him so it was his way of giving back to the man, allowing him to think they had been sleeping together, when in reality, they had not been.

Sherlock placed a hand on either side of the man’s head, he might as well use him to feed on as well, he was here, Sherlock reasoned with himself. Sherlock compelled the man to remain quiet while he fed. And as usual Sherlock drank deeper than he normally would have on other donors .

Forcing himself away from the delicious blood flowing through Jericho, Sherlock closed the wound and again cradled the man’s face between his hands and sent a compulsion. _We ran into each other back here, we hadn’t seen each other in months, we had quick, satisfying sex. You are done here._

 

John had started to move towards Sherlock and the other man, not realizing that he had even moved until Liam reached out and wrapped his arms around him to keep him from interrupting. John watched as Sherlock fed on the man. He could see what a struggle it was for Sherlock to stop feeding. When Sherlock had broken away and was giving his parting compulsion, John began to breath again. The man was walking away, right towards him in fact. He could see the man was very handsome. And then the man stopped and rushed back over to Sherlock. Kissing him roughly. Sherlock broke the kiss, looking at the man in horror and confusion.

 

“Sherlock, that was really good, as usual, but I still feel so aroused. Let’s go again.” Jericho said in a husky whisper. He rubbed his hand over the front of Sherlock’s trousers, caressing him through the fabric. Sherlock pried the man's hands off of him. “No. I have to get back to my friends.” Sherlock tried.

“Please Sherlock. I need to feel you in me again. I feel like we haven't really pleased each other fully, please baby.” Jericho launched himself at Sherlock kissing him again. Jericho cut his lip on one of Sherlock’s fangs. The sweet taste of his blood had Sherlock squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the call of this man's blood.

Jericho pulled away. “Come on Sherlock, you know you want me. You _always_ want me.”

 

John watched feeling sick as the man kissed Sherlock. He tried to go to Sherlock again. Liam held him tightly, his arms wrapped around John’s upper body, their bodies flush. John couldn’t stand to watch them. But he couldn’t look away either. Seeing this play out in front of him hurt. He felt like he was really going to be sick; and to make matters worse, he’d never have known the extent of his feelings for Sherlock had this _not_  happened.

The man suddenly dropped to his knees in front of Sherlock, yanking Sherlock's trousers down. John watched as the man quickly grabbed Sherlock's cock guiding it into his mouth. He saw Sherlock’s verbal attempt to stop the man, but as soon as his mouth closed over Sherlock, the battle was lost.

John turned his head away from the sight but the sound of Sherlock moaning reached his ears. Looking back he saw Sherlock thrusting into the man’s mouth. John couldn’t take it anymore. He struggled against Liam. _Let me go! I need to get away from this!_ Liam let him go.

Just as John was running into the crowd Sherlock opened his eyes and made eye contact with Liam, immediately he searched for John and saw him running off. Sherlock pushed the man off of him roughly. _What was he doing?_ He righted his clothes and ran past Liam in search of John.

 

Liam walked over to Jericho and told him tonight never happened. He and Sherlock had a really bad row months ago and he hadn’t heard from him since. The man got up and walked away, Liam was watching him go when he spotted Moriarty at the edge of the crowd smiling. Liam knew instinctively somehow Moriarty was behind this little mishap. He went in search of John and Sherlock. He needed to tell them, especially John. Poor John.

 

Liam wove through the thick crowd of dancing humans when he accidently ran into someone. “Where are you running off too in such a hurry?”

Liam looked up, Moriarty was blocking his way. He had made it to the middle of the dance floor and now he felt boxed in. Moriarty leaned in close and sniffed Liam, almost nuzzling his neck in the process. “You smell...ripe.” Moriarty grinned as he pulled away from him.

Liam tried to go around Moriarty.

“Uh un, you’re not going anywhere until I tell you that you can. Why are you helping Sherlock?”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t lie to me. I _hate_ when people lie to me.” Moriarty hissed.

“I’m not helping Sherlock; I’m helping John.” Liam had to be careful. He needed to show just the right amount of fear and haughtiness. He again tried going around Moriarty, and again he was blocked. Liam looked around Moriarty and he saw John looking at him, it looked as though he was headed towards him.

 

Liam watched as Moriarty looked over his shoulder, smiling when he saw John looking their way.

“You did a very good job with picking John’s outfit tonight.” Moriarty gave Liam the once over slowly. “And your own, I might add. So much so, I am having a hard time deciding who I should take home with me tonight. Who’s company I am going to enjoy.”

Liam didn’t have to fake the tremble that ran through him at Moriarty's words. Moriarty ran a finger over Liam's lips.

Moriarty looked at his finger, barely any lipstick had rubbed off. “Hmm, I wonder, what would make your lipstick rub off?” He managed to sound contemplative and almost _not_ creepy.

“I’ll tell you what, if _you_ go home with me, I will leave John and Sherlock alone for the night. I mean, after what John saw, I wouldn't be surprised if he came running to me willingly. Allowing me to peel all of those leather straps away from his body. One. By. One.” Moriarty closed his eyes and licked his lips, shaking his head slowly from side to side as if he was savoring something. Opening his eyes he looked at Liam, trailing his finger down Liam’s cheek, over his neck and to the open collar of his shirt. Moriarty popped one of the buttons off with a flick of an elongated nail. Liam flinched, Moriarty smiled at his reaction, looking at his lips and leaning in like he was going to try to kiss him. Another button popped off as Moriarty straightened back up grinning even wider. Still looking at Liam’s lips Moriarty whispered, “Come. Home. With.” _Button pop_  “Me. I will even sweeten the pot. I’ll tell the vampire council Sherlock and John pose no threat to them.”

Liam closed his eyes tightly; swallowing the fear down, he nodded his consent to Moriarty.

“Excellent!” Moriarty shouted clapping his hands.

Liam looked at John again, he knew the fear in his eyes was apparent and real. _John, I am leaving with Moriarty of my own volition. Go home now! Find Sherlock, put your anger aside and get home. Moriarty was behind that little display with Sherlock. I will explain later. Stay safe._ Liam looked Moriarty in the eyes and smiled tentatively, “Let’s go then cupcake.” He linked his arm through Moriarty’s and they left the club.

 

John watched as Liam disappeared with Moriarty. He didn’t like it. He saw and _felt_ Liam’s fear. Why would he go with him willingly? John wasn’t sure if he could believe that Moriarty was behind Sherlock’s lost of decorum, but unfortunately, he had to tell Sherlock about Liam and he needed him to get home. _Sherlock...Liam left with Moriarty. I want to go home._

John felt Sherlock touch his mind; he hated that he took comfort from that brief contact. He wanted to believe what Liam said, he just couldn’t see how it could be true. Sherlock was stronger than Moriarty even in his weakened state.

John walked outside and waited for Sherlock to join him. While he waited, his mind decided it wanted to play back the scene with Sherlock in a continual loop of torture. Maybe the fae magic that Liam said he felt coming from Moriarty had upped his power level enough so that he _could_ best Sherlock.

John was so lost in thought he didn’t notice when Sherlock appeared next to him. Sherlock gave his valet ticket to the gentleman standing at the podium.

When the car pulled up Sherlock opened the door for John, he just stood there, not acknowledging Sherlock's presence in the slightest. Sherlock grew worried. _John? Are you okay? The car is here._ He watched as John shook himself out of his stupor.

John stepped past Sherlock and got into the front seat of the vehicle.

Sherlock walked around the vehicle, sliding behind the steering wheel and drove off.

 

Once they had left the city behind Sherlock spoke. “John I’m-”

“Don’t. I...I don’t, I’m not ready to talk to you about it.”

The men sat in strained silence for several long miles.

“Liam said he went with Moriarty willingly. Why would he do that?” John finally asked quietly.

“I suppose because he can’t be trusted. No matter how nice a person he seems. Or helpful. Bottom line, we don't know him and he apparently sided with our enemy. He can't say he wants to help you and then stand with him.” Sherlock argued vehemently.

John turned in his seat facing Sherlock, “He was scared Sherlock. He was completely terrified. But he went anyways. He told me to find you and go home right away.”

“Was that all he said?” Sherlock questioned.

“No.”

“Are you going to tell me what else was said?”

John sighed, facing straight again. “He claims,” John took a deep breath trying to steady his voice, make it sound as neutral and devoid of emotion as possible, “he claimed that your actions in the back room- when you were _feeding_ on the man, that Moriarty somehow was behind that.”

Sherlock looked quickly at John, the look on his face saying that was the stupidest thing he had heard all night, “How could he be?”

The fact that even Sherlock didn’t think Moriarty could influence his actions didn’t bode well for Liam being right. “I don’t know, but when Moriarty was at the house earlier Liam said he could sense fae magic around him. Maybe that's how?”

Sherlock heard the note of hope in John’s voice and he felt awful. He wished now more than ever that he could compel this man to forget.

“I could tell he was stronger, but he still wasn’t stronger than me so I thought nothing of it.”

“Maybe coming by the house was a test run?”

“Could have been. And even in his normal, weaker than me state, he could’ve compelled Jericho in the club. But me? I don't see how.”

 

They finished the rest of the trip in silent contemplation. When they reached home John got out of the car and went inside not waiting for Sherlock like was his norm. He went into his room just barely resisting the urge to slam his door.

As John showered he couldn't keep himself from wondering how had things turned out like this? He had always lived his life safely. His job was safe. He had no real friends, that was safe. He dated safe; even though he fancied women _and_ men he’d only ever dated women because it was accepted and socially safe. He had no dangerous hobbies. The _only_ thing in his life that he had ever done that could be considered unsafe was joining the army. And those had been the best years of his life.

Things started going downhill the night Sherlock had saved him from a most likely early demise at the hands of Moriarty. He’d tried to look at this new life as a positive. But he kept feeling like the shit was about to hit the fan any moment. Every time he’d discovered some small trick he could do that he couldn’t before finding out there were vampires in the world, his gut tightened. And then he and Sherlock seemed to be getting along rather well, having more and more “moments” like the fitting room. Those moment helped John to see something positive in his current status quo. And then Liam happened. Completely shattering his perception of the world. He hadn’t even told Liam how freaked out he was about all the new info he was feeding him. But if Liam was as strong an empath and psychic as he claimed to be, he knew. But even with all that was going on around him,  even with him constantly on the edge of his seat, he’d wrongly thought everything was going to be okay because he had Sherlock in his corner, and he really seemed to care how he felt and his safety. And Liam was going to teach him how to harness and control his blossoming abilities.

And now, the worse thing that could’ve happened had happened. He’d gone and gotten feelings for Sherlock; feelings that obviously aren't reciprocated. Sherlock was either just typically a nice guy or being nice to keep John compliant.

Sherlock was a vampire. How dare John think he would be anything other than a predator. Someone who only acted on their most basic of primal needs. And like all predators, he would lie and manipulate whoever he had to, to get whatever he wanted. Feeling more morose than when he entered the shower, John got out drying off. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day he thought absently.

Walking into his adjoining room John stopped short. On his bed was at least two dozen white roses. And in the center of the bed was Sherlock sitting indian style in an all white suite and hair a mess just the way John liked it.

“Um, Sherlock, what is the meaning of this?”


	10. Forgive Me

“It has occurred to me John that I may not have painted myself in a very good light this evening.” Sherlock held up his hand when John started to cut him off. “I _need_ to say this.” Sherlock took a deep breath and got off of the bed. Standing before John, he clasped his hands behind his back and spoke. “It has occurred to me John that I may not have painted myself in a very good light this evening. And it has pained me to realize what a wedge I have shoved between us. I can’t take solace in the knowledge that Moriarty may have made me act the way I did. Because one, my actions hurt you; the very last thing I want to do. And second I’m a master level vampire, I should’ve been able to resist the call of Jericho's blood. This is on me.

I searched on Google, trying to find ways to make it up to you, to say what it is you don’t want to hear yet. I wanted a way to _show_ you. I came across something that I felt,” Sherlock spread his hands to encompass the bed covered in roses, and himself, “said it best.”

“Says what exactly?”

“I read that a white rose means ‘I want to deserve you’.”

John looked back at the bed covered in white roses and back to Sherlock dressed in all white.

“I want to deserve you John. I want to be the best me that I can possibly be. I want to be the type of man you could love unapologetically. I...want...to...deserve... _you_.”

 

John said nothing just stared at Sherlock with his teeth clenched and hands balled into fist by his side.

Sherlock panicked at John’s lack of words. Any response, positive or negative would have been normal. Not this silence. He dropped to his knees in front of John.

“You are the most unselfish person I have ever met. You’re brave, you’re smart and talented in so many ways. If you were a bold man John, the _world_ would have much to fear. I see greatness in you. I see hope in you. Not only for myself but for the world. I don’t want to lose you;” a tear ran down his face. This alarmed John. He had never seen Sherlock emotional, he was always in control. “I don’t want to lose my connection to the light. You are the brightest aspect of my life. John. Please- please forgive me for my abhorrent behavior.”

 

John was in shock. He wasn’t sure what to say or do. What was expected of him after such a grand gesture. John couldn’t stand to see Sherlock on his knees and seemingly in pain. Sherlock was a proud man, and he had begged John. He himself felt very emotional over the whole ordeal. Everything that had happened from the moment Moriarty had initially approached him.

Yes, what Sherlock had done in the club was hurtful. But seeing him like this now, how much he regretted his actions, it made the pain he felt over what he saw as a betrayal a little less. He’d much rather see Sherlock whole again then broken and on his knees begging. This hurt so much more.

 

Sherlock had his head bowed, silently crying, still on his knees. He would continue to protect John and provide for him even if he decided he wanted to go back to his flat and have nothing else to do with him.  

He felt a soft hesitant touch against the side of his face. John’s fingers were shaking. Unconsciously he leaned into the tentative touch.

This more than anything else broke John’s heart. He fell to his knees too, taking Sherlock’s face between his hands and holding his head up so he could look in his eyes. His voice was heavy with emotion and it came out sounding whispered. “I forgive you.” Sherlock said nothing, simply stared at John mouth agape. “I forgive you.” John grabbed Sherlock around the neck and pulled him into his arms. “I forgive you. I forgive you.  I forgive you Sherlock.”

Sherlock heard the emotion in John’s voice as it broke on the repeated words. How on earth did a creature like him ever get so lucky to have a man like John in his life?

“You aren’t a creature. You are an exemplary man. And we will get through this so that we deserve _each_ other.” John whispered.

Sherlock was deeply touched by John’s words and then it dawned on him, he hadn’t spoken out loud. He gently pushed John away. “John.”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes you did. You said ‘How on earth did a creature like you ever get so lucky to have a man like me in your life?’”

“I thought that, I didn’t say it.”

John stood up pulling Sherlock with him, “Okay and? We do this all the time now, I don’t see what the big deal is. How did you pull this together in the 20 minutes I was in the shower?” John asked looking at the flowers.

“Focus John. We communicate telepathically, that is different than reading someone's mind.”

“How’s that?”

“When we communicate mind to mind it is a conscious effort to send our thoughts to one another, whereas reading one's mind is like just tuning in to the right station.”

John was at the bed gathering the flower up while Sherlock was talking. It hit him what Sherlock was trying to say. “So you’re telling me I have _another_ bloody ability?” He shouted it as he shook a flower at Sherlock.

Sherlock pursed his lips and looked at John, perhaps he should have just left it alone.

“Leaving it alone would do nothing Sherlock, I would find out eventually and still have to face it.”

Sherlock didn’t have time to censor his next thought before John had heard it. I still didn’t speak out loud, bloody hell, am I to learn how to be a vampire all over again?

 

John sat down heavily on the bed, accidentally sitting on a rose and a thorn pierced him, reminding him that he only had on his boxers. “I’m tired of doing this Sherlock. I just want to go back to being normal.” John said wearily as he stood back up collecting the flowers. He walked to the kitchen and filled up a pitcher since they did not own and vases.

Back in his room he placed the flowers upon his desk in the corner. “Sherlock, I think Liam went with Moriarty to protect me, or us. He _was_ frightened. No one is that good of an actor. And I can't shake the feeling that he knows something more but won’t tell us. I mean why else would he put himself on the line for two complete strangers?”

 

Sherlock turned down the covers and slid between the sheets beckoning John over to him.

John stared at Sherlock. How the hell did he go from never wanting to talk to Sherlock again to sleeping in the same bed with him for the second night in a row? His life was so emotionally taxing as of late. Sighing John climbed on the bed and into Sherlock’s waiting embrace.

“Although I still believe we should keep a firm eye on Liam, as you said we are all complete strangers, let's say I give him the benefit of doubt. Vampires are often known to take up with strangers simply for the thrill of something new or to chase off loneliness. So the fact that we are all complete strangers _and_ _if_ he did go with Moriarty to protect either of us, it’s not that uncommon.

John was silent for a few moments, “Sherlock, am I that for you? A simple thrill or the cure for loneliness?” his voice was low, like he didn’t really want to ask because he was afraid of the answer.

“Oh John, you are so much more than that. What can I do to make you see that?”

John didn’t say anything, just snuggled in closer to Sherlock.

The men refrained from talking further and soon were asleep.

 

In the morning John woke before Sherlock, which was highly unusual. Stretching he went to get something to eat, stopping to smell his flowers on the way out.

John was eating his food when he had a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. He was learning to pay attention to these little things. Putting his fork down he wiped his mouth and hands with a napkin and first checked on Sherlock. He appeared to be okay, still asleep, but okay none the less. John looked down at his watch, it was just a little after 6 in the morning, the sun should be rising very soon. Walking back out the sitting room, he allowed his instinct to lead him to the front door, opening the door, John didn’t see him at first. John swept his gaze over the outer skirts of the property and it was as he was turning to go in the house that he saw Liam propped up against the house, just left of the door. He was still mostly in his outfit from when they had gone out. John rushed to the man, his eyes were closed, and even in the partial light John could see numerous bite wounds and bruises.

John kneeled down and gathered the man in his arms. John was both stronger than he looked and Liam weighed a lot less than you would think. John was extremely worried for his friend. Moving quickly he took the unconscious man inside, laying him on the couch.

 

Inside John was able to get a better look at Liam’s condition. His shirt was missing all it’s buttons and was blood stained in places. His fishnet stockings had runs all through them. He had no shoes on his feet and his wig was crooked and partially on. His makeup was still artfully applied, only his foundation showed any signs of wear, tear streaks were apparent. John stood up trying to figure out where to begin. Looking down on Liam he counted 7 visible bites. He ran to the guest bathroom and grabbed a rag and towel from the linen closet. 

Back in the sitting room John set to work of removing Liam’s clothing. John gritted his teeth in anger as he revealed more bite wounds, some were jagged and bleeding still. And the bruising, John knew for the bruising to still be so visible and angry looking, whatever caused it had to be extremely painful.

John gently tried to open Liam’s mouth so that he could use some of the vampire's own saliva to close up some of the worst bites.

John finally got Liam’s mouth open enough to dip his washcloth clad finger in the vampire’s mouth. John gasped. He was able to see Liam’s incisors aka fangs had been ripped out. The cruelty of that hit John hard. Putting the wash cloth to the side he went to the kitchen retrieving a knife. He remembered Sherlock telling him human blood can speed up a vampire's healing. John was getting ready to exit the kitchen when he bumped into Sherlock. “Oh, Sherlock.”

“What are you doing John?”

“Liam needs blood. I was…”

Sherlock’s eyes softened. “I noticed the state of our...friend. Let me help.” Sherlock extracted the knife from John’s grasp and set it on the table.

 

Sherlock took John’s hand and led him back to the sitting room. Bringing John’s wrist up to his mouth, Sherlock kept eye contact with John as he sank his teeth into the vein.

John’s eyes fluttered, threatening to close, but too soon the feel of Sherlock’s mouth was gone. Sherlock continued to hold his gaze as he guided his wrist to Liam’s open mouth. With effort John looked away from Sherlock and down at Liam. Sherlock was massaging his wrist, helping the blood to flow in absence of a mouth sucking, pulling the life saving liquid from his veins.

John watched fascinated as over the next several minutes the minor bruises faded away; and the more serious bruises and bites looked less harsh. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

 

John swayed a little on his feet. Sherlock moved so he was firmly standing behind John, supporting him. He brought John’s wrist to his mouth and ran his tongue over the small puncture wounds. Sherlock lowered John’s arm to his side and wrapped it around the shorter man. “There isn’t much more we can do. We need to get you back in bed. I let you donate far more than you should have. You’ll have to get your blood count back up if you want to donate again in a couple of days.” Sherlock lead John to his room and tucked him in.

“Sherlock, not that I’m complaining, but why your bed?”

“So I can keep an eye on you while I work and after you nap you and I can do some less strenuous mental exercises.”

John yawned. “What about Liam?”

“Don’t worry mon chou, I will settle our guest in one of the extra bedrooms.”

 

Sherlock did as promised, he carried Liam into the closest room to theirs. Liam’s overnight bag was already in the room, strange. He rummaged through the bag and found something suitable for the man to wear. He dressed Liam and returned back to his room to find John fast asleep.

  
Sherlock smiled. He retrieved his journal and sat at his desk to write.


	11. First Hand Experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must put a trigger warning here. Although I'm not exactly sure how to say it without giving anything away...but I don't want to take anyone by surprise. Rape like behavior and sadistic behavior as well as physical abuse are eluded to or mentioned in this chapter. I will add the appropriate tags as well.

_I swear that I am dreaming and I never want to wake up. John Watson is the most amazing man I have ever had the good fortune of meeting and knowing. He has a gigantic heart. He cares not only for humans, he cares for all living beings. Including vampires, what most people call the undead or living dead. But he sees us only as people._

_Liam was badly hurt tonight. Why, we’re not sure. John seems to think he was protecting us. And I am learning that John’s intuition has been more often right than wrong lately. But I’m getting off subject. Liam was badly hurt and left in a condition where it would be extremely difficult for him to feed in order to speed up his healing process. I wake up, alone and miffed about that detail, but I find John prepared to cut himself open to feed a vampire he barely knows. Simply because he knew the vampire was in dire need of blood. Who does that?_

_My John does, that’s who. Yes I’m laying claim to the good doctor. And I will do everything in my power to make sure he remains mine._

_I was very stupid last night. And It almost caused me to lose John. The seizing pain around my heart, the sluggishness of my brain. I never want to feel the fear, the self loathing...the heartache that I felt over my sheer stupidity. Jericho was at the club last night. When I saw him, I knew I should send him away, but I thought why not just a small feeding from him? Well things went wrong, quickly. My older compulsions worked against me in a way here. The man thought he and I had been shagging off and on over the years. After I fed, I sent him away, he started to walk away and turned back to me, asking to go another round. I tried sending him away again but it’s like he was immune to my compulsions all of a sudden. He kissed me, he cut himself, I tasted the blood and then I gladly kissed him back just to get to that sweet delicious blood of his. And then the shit hit the fan._

_He dropped to his knees and swiftly took me in his mouth, God help me I was loss. The worse of it, John had been watching this whole train wreck. I felt awful. Feel awful. And I can’t very well tell him that it was him I was thinking of as I fucked Jericho’s sweet little mouth. I hurt John. And I feel so bad about it, hate myself for that pain that could have been avoided. But the miracle that he is, John forgave me._

_He is my hope, my light and fast becoming my heart. I am wooing John Watson. I don’t want scare him off. I have been very honest with him from the start, I haven’t lied. But there are aspects of my life and personality that have not come up or been explored as of yet, and although he has been very accepting up to this point, everyone has a limit._

Sherlock looked over his shoulder, he was sitting at his desk writing in his journal, John was in his bed sleeping. He was on his stomach, one leg hanging over the side of the bed and the other bent and brought up close to his chest. One arm was curled under the pillow and the other was outstretched, as if he was reaching for something, or someone. Sherlock’s heart gave a little leap as he watch this fragile human sleep. He really wasn’t sure what it was about him that made him want to be near him. Always.

 

Sherlock closed his journal, distractedly leaving it on the desk. He shed his dressing gown and walked to his bed nude. He had to touch John. His little miracle. Sliding between the covers Sherlock propped himself up on one elbow facing John and ran his free hand through the other man’s short hair. John’s hand that was outstretched twitched, Sherlock lowered his head and kissed it. John mumbled something incoherent in his sleep. Sherlock withdrew his hand, he didn’t want to wake John up, he needed his rest.

He continued to watch the man sleep, he frowned when he noticed John was frowning in his sleep. John mumbled again and shifted, turning so that he was no longer facing Sherlock. Sherlock couldn’t resist he placed a kiss on one exposed shoulder.

 

_John watched in horror as Moriarty came closer to him. The only thing he wore was a sick sadistic smile. John twisted trying to get away from the mad man, only to find he was tied to the bed. The room was dimly lit with candles. Moriarty climbed up the bed and stalked towards him on all four like some predatory cat. John looked down at the man, and that was when he noticed what he had on; looking down his body, he saw that he was dressed exactly as Liam had been. He looked back to the threat on the bed with him. Moriarty pulled the highheels from his feet and tossed them over his shoulder uncaring where they landed. John closed his eyes and said a quick prayer and then he felt the burning sensation of teeth tearing into his his heel. His eyes flew open and his mouth open on a silent protest. He refused to cry out and give this man any satisfaction._

_Moriarty worked up his body, placing bites here and there, some gentle and sexually charged making John’s back arch off the bed in need; and then others were brutal and tore at his flesh. He felt like he was going to explode with the conflicting feelings, both physical and mental._

_By time Moriarty made it to his chest he was shaking from head to toe. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or need. He had a throbbing erection that Moriarty completely ignored._

_John watched as he grew just one nail long and really sharp that he then used to pop the remainder of his buttons off his shirt. The madman spread his shirt open like a lover seeing him for the first time. He placed gentle deceptively sweet kisses against his chest leading up to his neck. John’s heart rate picked up when Moriarty hovered over the pulse in his neck. Nothing happened. Moriarty pulled back and looked at him. Crazy and lust vied for dominance in his eyes._

_“You_ _want_ _this. You’re aching for it.” Moriarty taunted._

_John said nothing, just glared his hatred at the man._

_“Don’t try to deny it. I can read you like a book.” Moriarty took his elongated nail and ran it down John’s jaw and across his lips, cutting a line in his skin as he went. Moriarty leaned into him sucking John’s lip into his mouth to suck up the blood, then he lapped up the blood running from the cut along his jaw. When he pulled away this time there was more sanity in his eyes. He locked eyes with John, “I’m going to give you what you want. I’m going to make you come so hard you’re not going to want another person to touch you. Just...me.”_

_Apprehensively John watched the other man; he shortened his nail back down to normal length, impeccably manicured. Moriarty kissed, suckled and nibbled all over John’s body until he was a writhing mess of need. Before he could stop the word from coming out, he whispered, “Please.”_

_Moriarty smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile but it wasn’t exactly his bat shit crazy smile either. “Admit you want this. And I will give you everything you deserve.”_

_“I...want this.” John’s voice came out extremely low and he could hear the fear in his voice. How could he want this? How could he want something that scared him so completely?_

_Moriarty smiled again, and John could see the sanity leaking away from his eyes. Moriarty grabbed his hips and yanked downward, positioning the head of his dick at John’s entrance. John’s breathing was coming fast, there had been no prep work, and yet, for some reason he could not make himself tell this monster to stop._

_Moriarty looked down at him. No longer smiling, deathly serious. “This is going to hurt you more than it will hurt me, but I promise, when it’s all over you’ll only beg for more.” And then he thrust into John hard. John’s mouth opened wide on an exhale, trying to breath around the pain. Moriarty withdrew and thrust in hard again, but this time he hauled back his fist and punched him in the face at the same time. This trend kept up, sometimes he bit him harshly instead, feeding on his blood as he pounded into him, other times he beat him with closed fist._

_John hurt from head to toe. He couldn’t speak around the conflicting feelings. His body was thrumming, practically vibrating, tears were running down his his face. Moriarty was speaking to him when he wasn’t biting him but he could no longer hear him, he thinks maybe Moriarty busted his eardrums while he was beating on him._

_Moriarty grabbed John’s legs, placing them over his shoulders while he drove into him from a different angle, he lowered his head and bit John in the neck, not trying to be gentle; thrusting deep. To John’s extreme horror he started to come. His orgasm was so intense he couldn’t see past the stars exploding behind his eyes. He cried out then. It was the one and only time throughout the whole ordeal that he had cried out, either in pain or pleasure. The last thing he saw before blacking out was Moriarty grinning down at him, blood dripping obscenely down his chin. He was saying something but he couldn’t hear._

 

Sherlock was shaking John roughly. He seemed as though he was having a nightmare. He was whimpering and making small pained sounds. He wasn’t responding to Sherlock's attempts to wake him up and he was beginning to worry.

John begin to convulse, crying out, his body trembling, his back arched off the bed and then Sherlock smelled the unmistakable smell of ejaculate. Pulling back the covers he saw that John had indeed just orgasmed and his cock was still twitching in his boxers. Sherlock was even more alarmed. It wasn’t that he had never heard of a wet dream before, it was everything together, John not responding when he tried to wake him, the sounds he had been making and then an orgasm?

Sherlock shook him again more roughly than before calling his name. John’s eyes fluttered open. And Sherlock was so relieved he almost missed the look of fear in his eyes. “John? John are you okay? Talk to me.”

John sat up abruptly, looking around the room fearfully and running his hands over his body quickly as if he was searching for injuries. His hands stilled when they touched the ejecaulated mess. He collapsed back against the pillows. He made two attempts to speak before anything would come out. “I’m- I...I’m okay. I’m sorry Sherlock.” John started shaking as if he was cold.

Sherlock didn’t hesitate. He pulled John into his arms as the man broke down and started sobbing. Sherlock rocked him in his arms and told him he was safe and he had him.

When John’s crying had subsided, he spoke again, but kept his arms firmly around Sherlock and his face buried against his chest. “Sherlock it was awful. Moriarty...I was...Moriarty had me tied down in his bed and, and we had sex. Awful, painful, abusive sex. But I came.” John spoke very quickly as if he was trying to get it all out. “What kind of person gets off on being hurt like that? I felt like I hated Moriarty and wanted him to stop hitting me but at the same time I didn’t want him to stop. Did I like it? Why am I dream-”

Realization dawned on John. He pulled away from Sherlock enough that he could look up at the man. “It wasn’t a dream. It was Liam’s memory. It’s what happened to him. Dear God...what he had to endure.” John thought about all the bruises and bite marks all over Liam. There was no way all that happened in the small part he saw, experienced. That means the abuse had only gotten worse. Had Liam been human he would have been beaten to death. Not to mention all the blood loss. Silent tears of sympathy began running down John’s face again.

Sherlock said nothing. He just held John. John's dream brought back memories of his own time with Moriarty. He knew first hand how deprived that man was.  He scooped John into his lap and maneuvered off the bed. Walking to his bathroom he sat on the edge of the tub, still holding John, and ran bath water. Gently he placed John on his feet and peeled the soiled boxers from his body, and helped John into the tub. “I’ll be right back. John nodded.

Sherlock went out into the guest bathroom and pulled a couple bottles from the closet. Returning to his bathroom he poured a little liquid from each bottle into the water. They were different oils that John had insisted that Sherlock purchase. He had told him they were good to have on hand for stress, fatigue, body soreness and a whole laundry list of other things. There had to be at least ten bottles in the closet and he had only grabbed a couple, knowing very little about any of this stuff. He did know lavender was a good stress reliever so he had grabbed that one and two others. Sherlock turned off the water when it had reached John’s chin. His bathtub was especially made for his height. It was a little deeper than most tubs and a little longer too. He watched as John closed his eyes only to snap them back open again. Sighing Sherlock left the room and came back. 

Music began to fill the bathroom, it was beautiful and soulful. And a tad bit sad. John looked up to see Sherlock playing a violin. This man was just full of surprises. Without closing his eyes, John tried his best to let the music soothe and heal his battered nerves and psyche. He tried to keep from thinking about what Liam must’ve went through for them.

  
Sherlock’s arms were aching by time John had calmed and washed, getting out of the tub. But it was Sherlock's pleasure to be able to do this for him. John didn’t know it, but Sherlock knew what he was going through and experiencing. And knowing what it was that Liam had gone through made him trust the man just a little more. Although he knew firsthand how Moriarty could get under your skin and in your head, he had a way of turning a person against even themselves. But, his heart still went out to the young man. And his John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very concerned with how this chapter will go over. It is a bit dark. Let me know what you think.


	12. Surprises

John insisted on checking on Liam after he had gotten dressed in some pyjamas. And Sherlock insisted on going with him. In the guest bedroom John leaned against the door frame and Sherlock stood just inside the door.

Liam was still looking grey and most of the worst wounds still looked awful, albeit not as bad as before, when John had found him this morning.

“Sherlock. Can vampires be sustained off of another vampire's blood.”

“No.”

John sighed. “I was thinking, you could've feed him.” There was silence for several minutes when John finally asked his next question. Sherlock could see he had wanted to ask ever since his last question but was working up the nerve.

“If you gain no sustenance why did Moriarty feed on him repeatedly? He almost drained him dry.”

Sherlock looked at the man on the bed and then at John. “For vampires John, feeding usually goes hand and hand with sex. Moriarty tends to go overboard when he feeds; on human or vampire. He gets hit with what we call bloodlust. He becomes so overcome with the taste of blood it’s hard for him to stop feeding and it’s almost impossible to get him away from his victim. If his victim is human, he will most likely kill him. If his victim is vampire...let's just say we can take a lot more damage...and not die.”

“But you’ll wish that you were.”

Sherlock nodded his head.

“Do you think Liam knew this about Moriarty, knew I couldn’t possibly survive an experience like that, so he went in my place?”

The look on John’s face was heart wrenching. Sherlock could tell he felt so much guilt for the other man's suffering. He didn’t want to add to John’s sense of guilt, but he as usual felt he couldn't lie to him. “Yes. I think there is a good chance that he knew. Especially considering how strong a psychic he says that he is. It would also explain his choice in clothes for the three of us. I thought it a bit odd.”

“How so?”

“Moriarty truly has no preference in sexual partners, male or female, either will do. But Liam's choice of clothes for himself was a blatant mix of both. Something Moriarty would feel hard pressed to pass up. His choice of clothes for me, was a bit more insightful, it was the exact same outfit I wore when I broke his sire bond. Reminding him of the fact he will never again be able to have me in the way he wants.”

“And me?”

“Honestly, yours is a little less clear. I believe he just wanted to rub Moriarty’s nose in the fact that he couldn’t have you. But at the same time, the outfit could be taken as something a submissive would wear. And given your dislike for the outfit you practically cowered in it, further giving the impression of a submissive. Moriarty does not prefer his partners wholly submissive. Part of the fun for him is feeling like he is breaking someone down. You and I both know your spirit is strong and you will not be backed into a corner, Moriarty senses that, but last night, you displayed none of those traits.”

Liam started thrashing around on the bed, most likely from a nightmare. John went over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, he placed his hand on his back meaning to soothe the unconscious man; but the moment his hand touched him he was assaulted with more images from the night before. _John was on his hands and knees, Moriarty was pushing into him roughly from behind, his now clawed fingernails were tearing into his skin, leaving deep, angry furrows in his back. But despite the pain racking his body he pushed back against Moriarty as the man laughed maniacally._

 

Sherlock snatched John away from Liam. It hadn’t been apparent at first what happened, John was wide awake. John had laid his hand on Liam’s back and then he had slouched down over the man slowly. Sherlock had thought he was just trying to soothe and comfort him. But as soon as John began making pained sounds again he knew he somehow was experiencing Liam’s nightmare with him.

John blinked his eyes up at Sherlock, the fear in his eyes was something Sherlock was getting tired of seeing. He took John back to his room, laying him on the bed. As he withdrew John grabbed his arm. “We can’t let him suffer in his sleep like that. Once was enough.”

Sherlock caressed John's cheek, “I know mon trésor. I will be right back.”

 

Sherlock went back to Liam. He was still in the throes of his nightmare. Sherlock called upon all his power, feeling it pool in his abdomen. He whispered in Liam's ear, pushing every ounce of his power into the command, “Sleep without dreams, sleep without memories. Sleep the sleep of the truly dead. Awake when you are well.” Sherlock straightened, he hoped it worked. When he turned around, John was standing there. “I’m not fragile you know.” John chastised gently.

“Yes, I know.”

“I came back to make sure the same thing didn’t happen to you. I _felt_ your power Sherlock. It’s like it danced upon my skin.”

Sherlock walked out of the room pulling the door close behind him. As they walked back to the room his steps faltered, and John had to catch him around his waist to keep him from falling. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Just used a lot of my power rapidly. I need to sit down, rest a bit.” John kept his arm around Sherlock’s waist as they made their way back to the room. Sherlock extracted himself from John’s helping embrace and laid across the bed face up.

 

“That was very nice of you to do. Will you be okay, being this weak I mean?”

Sherlock patted the bed beside him and John sat next to him looking down. “Yes, so long we don't have any unexpected vistors. With any luck, what I did will protect you and Liam both.”

John sat quietly beside Sherlock, fingers absently playing in his curls.

 

“John. The only way to get ahead of these abilities and stop being caught off guard and by surprise is to find out exactly what you are capable of and practice. I’m tired of seeing how defeated you look anytime something new comes along. You are smart, resourceful and brave. Anything that comes your way I am more than confident that you can handle it.” John smiled at Sherlock’s words. “Now, with that being said, let’s practice. I think you have an ability that has been around since the start and we just never paid it any attention. I want you to ask me something. Something personal or touchy. Anything, so long as it is something you don’t think I would want to answer or tell the truth about.”

John looked at Sherlock. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Better to know then not. Anything we are aware of can be used defensively. Now, go on, ask me something.”

 

John thought about what he could ask Sherlock. Sure there were things he would like to know about Sherlock and some things he wanted to know how Sherlock felt about. But a lot of things were simply apart of the "getting to know you phase". He settled on, “Have you ever been in love?”

Sherlock gave him a droll look. “Is that the best that you can come up with?” He sounded annoyed. “No. I’ve never been in love. I thought I was at one point but no, never. Next. Now do come up with something deeper.”

“Did Moriarty ever do to you, what he did to Liam?”

John saw Sherlock physically flinch at his question. That alone gave him his answer. “Okay next question. Um-”

“I didn’t answer. You did. Nonverbally.”

“Yes. Often.”

“Were you human?”

“No. That behavior didn’t start until after he turned me.”

John swallowed hard before asking his next question. “Did...did you enjoy it?” John thought about how Liam seemed to be in so much pain, yet he also seemed to want the abuse Moriarty dished out.

Sherlock was quiet for some time. “I am unsure. I fear that I did.”

“How can you be unsure?”

“Morty is a master manipulator and consummate game player. He has a way of getting in your head and making you think you _wanted_ what he wanted. Or the very least, that you deserved what he gave you, or did to you.”

 

“Okay. What were you hoping to accomplish by me asking you prying questions?”

“Well, anytime you ask me something I feel the need to answer you. And be truthful. I haven’t lied to you. And not just because I want everything honest and transparent between us. But because I can’t. I tried to lie to you a moment ago, just to see if I could. I couldn’t. I felt like I was choking on the words. So, it would seem you are my truth serum. Now the question is, does that work on any other vampire or humans?

John stared at Sherlock and let that bit of info sink in. No lies from the beginning huh? So John could put to rest his doubt about Sherlock’s intentions with him. He really does want to protect him. “Sherlock, if I hadn’t forgiven you last night, what would you have done?”

Sherlock looked sheepishly away, “I had already make up my mind that I would still strive to protect you, even...even if it was from afar.”

 

The men sat in companionable silence. John watched as Sherlock dozed off. But not even ten minutes later he jolted awake. “John.”

“Hmm?”

“You picking up on Liam’s dreams is new. You did it in your sleep and also when you touched him.”

“Mmm, yes; but I think this is just an extension of the reading minds bit. Not something new. I'm guessing Liam is unable to shield in his weakened state.”

“Makes sense. But how can you shield while asleep?”

“I don-” John stopped talking suddenly and grabbed his head as if in pain. Sherlock lept up. He placed his hands over John’s, “Block John. Block dammit.”

 

John hastily threw his wall up. Just imagining it was there like Liam taught him. But it wasn’t enough. He still felt the pressure of power baring down on him like a physical weight. He fell back against the bed. He imagined another wall made of steel in front of his already existing wall. It made the pressure more bearable. Sitting back up he noted the look of alarm on Sherlock’s face. Sherlock grabbed a rag from the bathroom and passed it to John. John patted his forehead, the exertion _had_ made him sweat.

Sherlock gently took the rag out of John’s hands and wiped at his nose, and then showed it to him. John had been bleeding.

John looked up at Sherlock feeling silly and taking the rag from him. “Thanks. Who is that? Their power is enormous.”

Sherlock stood with his hands on his hips looking up to the ceiling. “I don’t know who exactly, but with a power signature that strong, it can only be someone from the council.”

John jumped up enraged. “The fucking dickhead! First he hurts Liam and then he calls the council down on us? Just wait until I see him I-”

“Do calm down John, no need to get worked up needlessly.” Sherlock cajoled with a calmness he didn’t feel.

John came in close to Sherlock, aggressively pointing downward, “Needlessly? Weren’t you the one who told me how- how the council wanted you dead?”

“Yes but they have never set about to do it themselves. So let’s go see who it is and what they want.”

 

Sherlock and John went to the sitting room and stood at the front door, neither man moving.

_John you know I am weak. If it comes to it, I want you to leave me here._

John stared at Sherlock outraged at the mere suggestion. He didn’t even dignify the request with a response. It was clearly absurd.

 

John reached out and opened the front door. There was a solitary man standing on their stoop, he was well dressed, looked to be of middle aged, early 50’s when he was turned most likely. And he leaned against an umbrella, almost like a cane, but obviously more of a decorative prop.

“Good evening gentlemen. What a unified front you present. Might I come in?”

Sherlock looked at the man appraisingly. John looked to Sherlock and back to the man. “Sherlock?”

“Yes, where are my manners, Mycroft, won’t you please come in of your own volition?”

“Thank you Sherlock.” Mycroft looked around their sitting room. “A bit more tidy than last I remember it. John has been a positive influence I see.”

Mycroft didn’t sit. He stood in the middle of the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “So where is he?”

“Where is who, I don’t follow?” Sherlock replied

“Really Sherlock, don't’ play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” Sherlock just looked at Mycroft. “Could it be, The Great Sherlock Holmes, vampire prodigy, The Undead Scholar,” Sherlock rolled his eyes and had the good graces to look embarrassed. “hasn’t figured it out yet.” Mycroft continued on, now smirking sardonically.

Sherlock squinted at Mycroft as he sat in his leather chair. John looked from man to man and then stood behind Sherlock. Mycroft gave a wide humorless smile. “Unified indeed. Liam, Sherlock. Where is he?”

“What is it to you?”

Mycroft sighed dramatically. “Sherlock, I don’t have time for this- this juvenile behavior. Now,” Mycroft raised his umbrella and used it to point in Sherlock’s direction, “he is one of ours. I need to check on him. Especially his mental health.”

 

John clenched his fist beside him. So Sherlock had been right, Liam was a plant and they shouldn't have trusted him. He was such a bloody idiot. Before he could stop to think, to remember he was supposed to fear this man in their sitting room, he blurted out, “So you and the council planted Liam here?”

Mycroft frowned down at John. “Curious...yes.”

“And Sherlock was right, saying we shouldn't trust him.” 

Still frowning, as he stared at John, the council member answered, even though it wasn't really a question. “Au contraire, he is extremely trustworthy and I am thrilled he was taken in by family.” He gave his little smile again.

“Uh, excuse me, family?”

“Sherlock here is blood of my blood. A direct descendant. Sherlock you need to keep this one. And his secret. He is strong and strong willed. Now, playtime is over. Liam?”

“Wait. One. Got. Damned. Minute.” Anger dripped from his voice; John whispered the words but none the less he commanded control of the room. “Liam is a council member?”

“No. But he works for my family; exclusively.”

 

Sherlock got up and started walking towards the guest bedroom, and as hoped, Mycroft and John fell in line.

 

Mycroft sat on the edge of the bed next to Liam. Very gently he turned the man over onto his back. John watched with rapt interest, he would say he saw concern and tenderness in Mycroft’s gaze.

“Thank you Sherlock...and John for trying to take care of him.” Mycroft placed a hand on either side of Liam’s head.

John felt the pressure start to build up again. He hadn’t even realized it had let completely up. Mycroft was forcing his power into Liam, much the way Sherlock had done. He also bent and spoke in Liam’s ear but he did so in another language.

John definitely sensed “fondness” in his words and mannerisms, even if he couldn't understand their meaning.

 

Sherlock glanced at John. He had an overwhelming need to hold his hand. He didn’t know why. Something about seeing the way Mycroft was acting with Liam made him want to reach out to John.

John edged closer to Sherlock, their arms brushing lightly.

“Can I have the room gentlemen?” Mycroft asked, but he didn’t make eye contact. Sherlock started for the door immediately, but John hesitated. “I won’t hurt him John, I only mean to help him heal.” Mycroft turned and fixed John with a stare. “It’s amazing, even after you found out he betrayed your trust, you’re still ready to protect him. Try to at least. You’re very honorable John Watson, I’m glad to see I was correct about you.” John opened his mouth to speak again, but Mycroft held up his hand, halting the words he was about to speak. “We’ll talk in a little while, now leave us.” Mycroft flicked his wrist in a dismissive manner and an invisible force pushed John and Sherlock out of the room with the door closing quietly behind them.


	13. A History Lesson From The Undead Scholar

Sherlock and John sat across from one another in their respective chairs.

“So...The Undead Scholar. What’s that about?”

“Really John out of all that, Undead Scholar is what you take away?”

“Course not. But I was curious and I need a moment to process the rest.”

Sighing as if he was extremely put out by having to explain the nickname, “As Mycroft eluded to, I have been graced with numerous ridiculous nicknames. Thankfully he didn’t name them all. I was dubbed The Undead Scholar by a handful of vampires because even after I was turned, I continued my education, learning everything I could get my hands on.”

“And he is still in the same habit.” Mycroft said from the door.

John turned and looked at Mycroft, he wanted to ask how Liam was doing. Even though he did feel betrayed by the man, he still felt guilty over his night with Moriarty.

“He will be fine John. He knew what would happen if he stepped in for you.”

“Why? Why would he do that?”

“Because he believes in you.”

“Believes what exactly?” Sherlock asked.

“That John will be the one who brings order to our chaotic world.”

“How exactly?”

“Simple John, with your latent abilities. It is Liam’s job to bring you into them gently, slowly. But I’m afraid we had the time frame a little skewed. By the time Liam got to you, you had already been showing signs of your blooming abilities for a month. And unfortunately, with the manner you were introduced to them they frighten you. But also fortunately, my dear family didn’t drop the ball completely. Sherlock with his bleeding heart was there to make sure you didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Wait a minute, a couple of things. Was Sherlock aware of my abilities before he officially met me?”

“No. Sherlock is a bit of the black sheep of the family. Besides no one knows we are related, and they mustn't find out.”

“So did the council really send Moriarty to spy on us?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re apart of the council and you seem to be helping us.”

“Which is exactly why I have not let on to Sherlock and I being related. I am not only a member of the vampire council, I am the head. But we try to remain fair in our dealings and vote on most issues. I can put my foot down and make the deciding factor, but I much rather save my grandstanding for important matters. I run interference for Sherlock when I can.”

 

John looked at Sherlock, who had been strangely silent through all of this. “So, you aren't here on council business?”

“Goodness no. The council would have my head, literally, if they knew what I was up to. This is a long time in the making gentlemen. The ultimate goal is to be able to be rid of most of the current council members and replace them with younger more modernized members.”

“Okay and how did you know about me, especially since _I_ didn’t know about me?”

Mycroft stared at John as if he’d asked an obvious question. “Liam is psychic remember. He saw this years ago.”

John leaned forward in his chair. “How old is Liam?”

Mycroft fidgeted, and cleared his throat several times. Sherlock smiled. Mycroft didn’t want them to know Liam’s age.

“He’s 777 years old this year.”

John’s mouth dropped in disbelief. And Sherlock openly scoffed. “Impossible. That would make him pretty close to your age Mycroft. His power signature is nowhere near as strong as yours or even mine.”

“Sherlock, that’s because he isn’t from the original line of vampires, like you and I. But don’t underestimate him, I’ve known Liam his whole life and he has taken down vampires that came across as twice as powerful.”

“So why didn’t he take down Moriarty last night? Why put himself through that especially knowing what would happen.”

Regret and something else flitted across Mycroft's face. "He said it had to play out a certain way. It was imperative for Moriarty to believe he was stronger than Liam, and in the coming months he needs to believe he is stronger than Sherlock and you as a unit.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense, he has always been weaker than me, and most vamps, why all of a sudden would he believe he is stronger than us and Liam?”

“Why indeed.” was Mycroft's smug reply.

 

“What has changed with Moriarty that makes him believe he could be stronger than us?” John asked.

Another humorless smile from Mycroft, “He’s aligned himself with the dark fae, he has _borrowed_ some of their magic.”

“Liam mentioned he felt fae magic around Moriarty, but wouldn’t he know?”

“John you must understand being psychic is not absolute. You don’t know everything. Somethings are crystal clear and you just know, and others are murky and not as clear.”

John nodded his understanding. “How exactly do we all fit into this plan?”

 

“Prophecy. I come from the original line of vampires, as does Sherlock. Liam is descended from a line of druids that use to keep vampires in check. They had a way to make them accountable. They loss their abilities over the centuries but they are slowly are gaining them back. Liam has been the strongest in many years. He foresaw another that would surpass even him in power he would be the beginning of the druid’s powers returning fully. None would be as strong as him, but with the abilities returning multiple judges could keep vampires in line again.”

“And you, as head of the vampire council, you want this?” John asked incredulously, “That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Vampires run unchecked. They rape, maim, kill and convert without bias. Soon the entire world will know of our existence and we will be hunted to extinction. Having judges is not a death sentence, it’s much like the human laws, you abide by them, no problem; break them and you face the judge.”

“And jury! Don't forget there is a jury.”

“Unfortunately for you Dr. Watson you won't have that luxury in the beginning.”

“And why should I help?”

“Many humans will die before they rise up to hunt us down. But you don’t see the two any differently, vampire and human. You see us all as the same more or less. So, in short, there will be many, many deaths. Both human and vampire.”

“But Sherlock is close!”

“And you John, you’ve been helping.” Sherlock threw in there.

“Ahh,  the cure?” Mycroft chuckled. Even if he finishes it before the war starts how many vampires you think will actually volunteer to take it knowing our worlds are about to collide?”

 

John had to admit Mycroft had a point. “So, to sum it all up, you think I am a descendant of these magical druids, and not only that, I’m the one who will restore order to the world?”

“Yes.”

“And what of the vampire council? You said the goal of all this was to change the council, or was that a lie?”

“Really John? I cannot lie. You know that. I may have been ambiguous when I said it, but it was the truth nonetheless. The replacement of the council is basically a byproduct of the prophecy coming to pass. The original council use to be made up of 3 judges, or druids if you wish, and then a representative of every intelligible walk of life.”

“Such as?” John prompted.

“I’ll name a few, I need to get back before they notice I am away. Lycanthropes, vampires, and humans. Now I must leave.” Mycroft held up his hand to John, again stopping him from speaking. “If I don’t silence you I will _never_  get to leave. You and your questions, you are rather curious aren't you? You will find out everything soon enough. Liam will wake within the next 24 hours. Train well Doctor. I shall return when I can.” Mycroft strode out the door without another word.

 

John and Sherlock stared at one another after Mycroft had gone.

“Well.”

“Yu _p.”_

“So you and I are sorta like natural enemies?”

“Don't be so dramatic John.”

“Me dramatic?” John laughed.

“We are no more enemies than the government and it’s citizens.”

“Which is which?”

“Apparently you were meant to rule over me.” Sherlock gave John a suggestive once over and wiggled his eyebrows comically, trying to make light of the situation.

“Yeah, well I don’t like having control over someone's life. And furthermore, how on earth are you and Mycroft related and descended from the first vampires?”

“I don’t know. Mycroft has never told me. But I have been doing my own research and asking questions.”

“Course you have, Undead Scholar.” John sniggered.

“Laugh all you want. The story I pieced together isn’t pretty and points to _your_ ancestors as the perpetrators.”

“Keyword. Ancestors, not me.”

“Yes, but as luck would have it John, you are an accumulation of your ancestors. So…”

“Well then, let me have it; tell me the story.”

 

“I’m not saying this is accurate, just what I could piece together.

Vampires haven't been around since the beginning of time like some cultures think. We also were not born with the fictional character Dracula. Although he _was_ based on a real character in history, Vlad III Drăculea. Or Vlad the Impaler, and again known as Vlad Țepeș. Vlad was a vampire, after a time. But he was not the first. I only mention him because most people believe him to be the first only because he was so careless and allowed humans to see his true nature. He murdered masses before and after becoming a vampire, he didn't care who knew what he was.

But moving along. Vampires are much older. Mycroft was born around 1083 A.D.”

“Seriously? That would make him...almost a thousand years old.” John interrupted excitedly.

“Yes. Well, Mycroft is currently The oldest _known_ living vampire. And yet he was _made_. Someone had to come before him. Some people think he is 3rd generation vampire, others think the first vampire made Mycroft. I’m not sure it matters either way. I mean scholastically, it does, but not in the whole scheme of things.

It is thought the first vampire was made between 428 A.D. and 832 A.D.”

“That is a huge gap, almost 400 years.”

Sherlock gave John an annoyed look. “As I was saying, 428 A.D. was when Saint Patrick began his missionary work in Ireland. Prior to this, Druids were looked to for religious needs and for the magic they welded. But when Saint Patrick came through with the backing of Rome it was a bad thing to be found as a practicing Druid. We think the druids went mostly underground at that time. It is also thought that fighting began around this time between those who openly embraced the new religion of Christianity and those who opposed it; wanting to stick to the old ways. There were two major clans, or families back then, and the names have been changed and embellished upon so many times no one knows what the real names were.

But anyways, the daughter of the chieftain who embraced the new religion was betrothed to the first born son of the chieftain who opposed the new religion. When the people divided over religion, the girls father refused to honor the promise of marriage.

The two ran off and married in a Druid ceremony anyways. When her father found out, it is said that he cursed the man to be slave to his baser needs, he meant him to live as an animal. The curse could not be undone, so the young man's father altered the curse with the help of darker magic; he added to it the strengths of predators. But by doing so it changed the original curse to include eating as predators do. They hunt and feast on the blood and body of weaker animals. The man after being altered attacked his wife, unable to control the new lust for blood. Little did anyone know, she was pregnant; she appeared to die. 3 days later she rose as a vampire. She attacked her father's clan, leaving them all dead except for her siblings. There were 3 of them. The were the most powerful druids that the world had ever known. When they became old enough, they realized they had the power to control vampires, in a sense. All of their abilities have not been recorded but I do know one of the sisters could tell when a vampire was lying. I might mention they were very young when their clan was murdered by their own sister. And in the years that they grew and became of age, they saw how the vampires ran amuck. The vampires were numerous at this point, they killed for sport, abandoning all semblance of humanity.

So the 3 siblings became the first judges. They felt it was their job to police the vampires because one, they were the only ones who seemed immune to their powers as well as it was their father who cursed the original vampire.”

“Okay. What of the child?”

“The one the daughter was pregnant with? Miraculously she carries it to full term and it was born as a human, and lived a full life. Mycroft believes he and I are descendants from that bloodline, the child of the first two vampires. And he believes you to be a descendant of one of the siblings.”

John let out a heavy breath. “What are the odds of you and Mycroft, assuming he is correct and you are direct descendants of the first vampires, what are the odds that you both get made into vampires?”

“About 1 to 1.6 million. I am sure Liam would say something like we were meant to be vampires, we couldn't escape our destiny or something like that.”

 

“Alright, now 832 A.D.?”

“That is when the earliest writings about vampires turned up in Baghdad. Baghdad was known as the city of learning back then.”

“Well I don’t see how the 3rd generation theory works for Mycroft. If vampires were first made somewhere in that 400 year gap, and then Mycroft was born almost 200 years later, they would have been well past 3 generations of vampires.”

“Very true. I was just relaying to you what I've been told, what the rumors are.”

“Now _it is_ plausible that the first vampire turned him. As a matter of fact, we all only assume he is dead because no one can attest to ever seeing him die.”

“What about his wife?”

“She was punished by her siblings. She was thought to be the worst offender throught out the whole history of vampires. She's killed more humans than anyone else.”

“But punished, not killed?”

“Yes.”

“So could she be alive somewhere too?”

“I suppose theoretically. She was buried alive. The location was not recorded to keep vampires from unearthing her. No one has seen or heard from her, so it is assumed, like her husband that she died at some point.”

 

John nodded his understanding. “This is all a lot to take in.”

“Yu _p._ And you’re taking it remarkably well.”

 

John stood up and stretched. “Haven’t much choice do I?”

Sherlock began to answer when John cut him off with a kiss. John rested one hand on Sherlock’s shoulder and the other weaved its way into his hair. It was a gentle kiss, barely a pressing of their lips. As John pulled away, standing back up, Sherlock tried to drag him back down. John laughed and pulled Sherlock up from his seat. “I’m hungry. I can’t survive on snogging you alone.”

“I’m sure you could, we should give it a try.” John turned to look at Sherlock, the taller man winked at him.

“Come along John, let’s get you fed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used actual historical facts and dates in this chapter, I wanted to give it a touch of realism.❤


	14. Answers

John was finishing up his meal of leftover Thai takeout, while Sherlock worked on a bowl of Phish Food ice cream. The two men only discussed things of little importance while they both had bigger things on their minds.

John was concerned with the responsibility that was being placed on his shoulders.

Seriously, the whole world was in danger? He hoped Mycroft was just exaggerating, but he’d seemed deathly serious about the whole ordeal. And why did he keep referring to him and Sherlock as a unit? It was almost like he considered them a team. But, when he was discussing it with John directly he made it seem as if everything rested on his shoulders alone. The whole thing was highly confusing. It felt like he had been thrown in the middle of a high action story and he didn’t know what was going on.

 

Sherlock on the other hand was preoccupied with what he knew about the history of vampires and what Mycroft had just told them. He was cross referencing, trying to test the real world probability of what Mycroft thought was going to happen. It was obvious Mycroft believed what he had told them, because he demonstrated and confirmed that he couldn’t lie to John. On a side note they just needed to test it against humans, although he would guess that it wouldn't work because this ability was born of the need to police vampires.

 

“Wait a minute. Lycanthropes?”

Sherlock smiled at John’s sudden question.

“Yes. Shapeshifters.”

“What type?”

“Oh all types really.” Sherlock was enjoying being able to introduce John to a whole new world. “The story goes-”

“Of course there’s a story behind them as well.”

“Of course there is. And it actually ties into the story I was telling you earlier. So, the story goes the curse against the first vampire manifested in different ways. They say the curses manifestation depended on your own outlook on life. Like the first vampire being the son of a chieftain and next in line for that position of leadership thought that men were the most powerful of predators, the highest on the food chain. So he was made into a better human.”

“Human 2.0.”

“Exactly. So somewhere early on someone who was bit and converted thought wolves were the ultimate predator, resulting in the first werewolf. And so forth and so on until we had a variety of different Lycanthropes. Or something similar. People say it was only those bitten by the first vampire that had the possibility of a different manifestation of the curse. Any third generation bite victims turned into whatever their sire was.”

“Interesting.”

“Yes I agree. But I don’t believe that it happened quite like that. Can you imagine someone actually thinking a vulture or a rat or even some sort of an amphibian was the deadliest predator alive? I believe the part about the curse manifested in those bit by the first vampire according to who they thought was the strongest, men or animal; but I don't think it was so specific. I believe it was more of a random process. For example if you were bit by me and I was the first vampire, and you thought animals were the highest on the food change you randomly turned into an animal, you didn't get to choose. I think the variety of all the different shapeshifters is more of nature's way of trying to balance the world out with different weres.”

“Makes sense. So, you’ve seen fish weres? That’s funny.

“How do you think the legends about mermaids started?”

John stared at Sherlock.

“I’m serious.” Sherlock insisted. “Come on, we both need some much deserved downtime.”

“We can’t leave Liam.”

“We’re not.”

 

Sherlock stood up, placing their empty dishes into the sink on their way out of the kitchen.

Sherlock led the way to John’s room. John looked at him questioningly. “My room doesn’t have a television.”

Sherlock climbed on the bed opening his arms to John.

He grinned and climbed on the bed and cuddled up to Sherlock.

Sherlock reached for the remote on John’s side table, but before turning on the television he pressed a quick kiss to John’s lips.

 

John tugged on Sherlock’s shirt to get his attention as he was scrolling through the guide, without taking his gaze away from the t.v. Sherlock bent his head to John kissing him again.

“You know in the amount of time I’ve been here I haven't had a chance to turn that blasted thing on. And we've never discussed favorite television shows, movies, music or anything mundane like that.” John pointed out.

Sherlock stopped scrolling and looked down at John, “That’s because we’ve been bonding over more important things; like life, death, and sexual attraction.” he winked at John and continued his scrolling.

John chuckled against Sherlock’s chest, it sent small vibrations across his skin and the sound started a fluttering in Sherlock's chest. Several things that John did caused this same reaction.

John’s smile, when he got all protective, and he did that a lot, and for different people, but Sherlock loved it when it was for his benefit; even if it wasn't necessary. He also found that he enjoyed when John got angry. John was no pushover, and he stood his ground; Sherlock liked that about him. He was like a tenacious little puppy. Kind of like that little puppy on that kids show. What was it? Oh! Scooby-Doo, but the little one. John looked all cute and cuddly but if you crossed him or someone he cared about you might find yourself staring down at one angry vertically challenged man. Yeah, John was short but he loved how he didn’t let that stop him. He commanded the room when he walked in rather he knew it or not. Belatedly he realized John was trying to get his attention. “Hmm?”

“Everything all right Sherlock? You kind of zoned out. Are you tired?”

“No. I was just thinking.”

John watched Sherlock for a few moments. Sherlock finally settled on something, John was surprised to see it was Step Brothers. “Have you seen this before?” he asked.

“Yes, numerous times. I am quite fond of Will Ferrell and I liked John C. Reilly in Chicago.”

“You liked Chicago? The musical with Richard Gere, Renee Zellweger and Catherine Zeta-Jones?”

“And John C. Reilly. Yes. Now shh, the movie has already started.”

The men settled in to watch the movie, laughing and quoting lines. They finished that movie and began another, but both fell asleep before the end.

 

In the morning Sherlock made John a big breakfast of oatmeal, a spinach, avocado and chicken omelette and peanut butter toast. Sherlock was just setting the food down when John walked into the kitchen yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Smells good in here. You’re cooking again?”

“Sure why not?”

John sat down at the table and looked at the food. “This is a lot of food Sherlock, why don't you sit down and eat with me?”

“No thank you, I made it for you, try and eat all of it. I need to go out, make sure you keep all doors double locked and don't answer it for anyone. When I get back I’ll call you so you can remove the chain.”

John was cutting into his omelette and was about to take a bite when he noticed Sherlock watching him. John put his fork down. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you poison this?”

“What? Heavens no, why would I do that?”

John raised a brow at Sherlock, for an experiment.”

“No. I didn’t poison the bloody food. There is nothing wrong with it. At least I hope not.”  he argued defensively.

“Understanding dawned on John. He picked his fork back up and took a bite of the omelette. It was really good. “This tastes great, thanks.”

Sherlock gave a small half smile and started to walk out when John called to him.

“Hey!”

Turning back to John he stood in front of him, “Yes?”

John fisted his hand in the front of Sherlock’s shirt and pulled him down, kissing him slowly. He ran his tongue lightly over Sherlock’s bottom lip and then nipped it gently. Pulling away he said, “Hurry back.”

Sherlock straightened his shirt and gave a small nod and left the house.

 

John finished eating his food and as he did he realized what was odd about the meal, it was all foods high in iron. John smiled. Sherlock was very thoughtful. Mycroft said Liam would wake within 24 hours which meant it would be some time in the next 16 or so hours. He would most likely be hungry and Sherlock was trying to raise John’s iron.

John got up and washed the few dishes in the sink and went to a fourth bedroom just pass Liam’s. It had been converted into a gym for John and he only had the chance to use it once or twice since it was installed.

 

John began by turning on the radio in the room and warming up on the treadmill. He started off at a slow jog that lead into an all out run. Every 7 minutes he alternated between jogging and running. At the end of 49 minutes he wiped his face and laid on the floor. He did several reps of sit-ups and then flipped over and started push-ups.

 

Sherlock stood in the door of the make shift gym watching John work out. John hadn’t even noticed him approach, which was unusual. It could mean any number of things, he was mentally preoccupied, he had grown use to Sherlock's power signature or he noticed and just didn’t care that he was watching him.

John’s body was totally slick from sweat. Sherlock licked his lips as he watched his back muscles play beneath the skin. With every downward motion followed by an upward motion, the muscles in his back bunched, working in tandem; John’s body called to him.

John stood up and Sherlock watched as a bead of sweat traveled the length of his back and disappeared pass the waistband of his sweats.

 

John turned around wiping his face when he saw Sherlock standing in the door watching him. “How did you get in?”

“Someone forgot to put the extra locks on when I left.”

John’s mouth fell open in a silent “Oh”.

“I came in here to yell at you for it. But, I got a little distracted.” Sherlock walked into the room, approaching John slowly.

John stood his ground, waiting to see what Sherlock was up to. He’d said he had come in here to yell at him for his carelessness, and he admit it, he ahouldn't need to be reminded what was at stake.

Sherlock walked a tight circle around John, looking him over provocatively and stopping when he'd reached his back.

Sherlock ran one long finger down the center of John’s back, chasing behind a bead of sweat. Sherlock stopped at the waistband of John's sweatpants but watched as the bead of sweat continued on.

John remained still, waiting. He was all sweaty and Sherlock, as always was impeccably dressed, he would hate to mess up his clothing. As if reading John’s mind and dismissing his concerns, Sherlock wrapped his arm around John’s torso and pulled him flush against his front. John's breath hitched at the unexpected move.

 

Sherlock leaned over, inhaling sharply against John’s neck. His exhale causing goosebumps to rise along John’s damp skin.

“Sherlock?”

A shiver ran through Sherlock at the sound of John breathing out his name. It sounded like a question, a plea...Sherlock didn’t know, didn’t really care. He ran his hands up and down John’s arms several times, revealing in the feel of John's well defined muscles; the feel of the hard muscle encased in smooth, soft skin had him thinking of several naughty things at once.

 

Sherlock turned John around to face him, his face was flush and his eyes fully dilated, John’s eyes began to droop in anticipation. Sherlock closed his eyes and brushed his lips lightly across John’s, he could feel the sharp intake of air as John grew more excited. Pressing his mouth more firmly to John’s, he backed him up against the wall, placing one hand against his exposed hip and the other cupped the side of his face, thumb stroking lazily.

John licked at Sherlock’s teasing mouth, he was anxious, he wanted more of this man in front of him and Sherlock seemed content to kiss at the speed of a sloth. John rocked into Sherlock, rolling his body from chest to hips, trying his best to spur Sherlock on.

John was clearly impatient, Sherlock pressed his body tightly against John to keep him from moving. John moaned against his mouth. Sherlock finally relented and slid his tongue along John’s lips, tracing them and then beyond, licking into his waiting mouth. He continued at a leisurely pace, rolling his tongue around John’s, sucking it into his own. Pulling back he looked at John, his lips was slick with saliva and parted. He kissed the corner of John’s mouth, nibbling a path across his jaw and down to his neck.

Most of the sweat had dried, but Sherlock could still taste the saltiness on John’s skin. He bit down, grazing his fangs along John’s shoulder. John hissed sharply and fisted his hands in the fabric of his own sweats. Sherlock was still moving painstakingly slow. “Why do you grab at your clothes? Touch me.” Sherlock breathed against John’s neck.

 

John didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly reversed their positions and smiled when he heard Sherlock give a small “Oof” when his back hit the wall. John snaked his hands into Sherlock’s hair and dragged his mouth down to meet his. He nipped at Sherlock’s bottom lip until the man opened up above him. John shoved his tongue into his mouth kissing him roughly and grinding his erection against Sherlock's hip. John pulled Sherlock’s shirt from his trousers and ran his hands up his well defined stomach, pinching and rolling his nipples between his fingers.

Sherlock threw his head back against the wall, a loud moan bursting from his lips. John was now kissing and sucking along his neck. When John's hands moved to his belt buckle Sherlock groaned. “John.”

“Hmm?” John continued trying to undo Sherlock’s belt and now nibbling the sensitive skin underneath his chin.

Sherlock wanted this, bad; but he needed to stop their progression. He shouldn't have started this. “John.” Sherlock said his name more firmly , placing his hands over John’s to still their movements.

John bit him lightly on the chin and guided one of Sherlock’s hands into the front of his sweat pants. John thrust up into his hand and Sherlock instinctively closed his hand around him.

 

Suddenly Sherlock pushed John away from him.

“What's the problem Sherlock? “ John asked lips swollen and voice breathless.

“We can’t do this. Not right now.”

“Why not?” John was trying to catch his breath.

“Liam...if we do this, and I want to, I will bite you,” Sherlock saw a slight shiver run through John at his words, “and you won’t be able to feed him when he gets up.”

John gave Sherlock a lopsided grin.

Sherlock frowned, confused, not the reaction he would have expected.

John walked back to him and gave him a slow,  hot as fire kiss. Pulling away John smiled again. “You are amazing, you know that. I am going to go take a cold shower, too bad, you can’t join me hmm?” John exited the room, presumably to go have that shower.

 

Sherlock felt he could use one as well after that.

Instead he walked to his room and sat at his desk, waiting on his erection to go down and John to finish showering. They had work to do.


	15. Awake

“What are we doing Sherlock?”

Sherlock turned his head slightly and squinted at John, “Research.” He drew the word out and made it sound like a question.

“I know we’re working on the research Sherlock, but why? You heard Mycroft. He said no one will even want the cure knowing there is an impending war.”

“Yes. But this research could still be fundamental in finding cures for human diseases, like cancer and aids, maybe even alzheimer's and M.S.; things like that.. Besides, there will be no war.”

“There won’t?”

“No, because you will embrace your role as a judge and we will avoid all out war if possible.”

“Sherlock I refuse to be the council's henchman lackey. I told you, I am not comfortable holding the life of someone else in my hands.”

 

“Is that really what you think of your intended role?”

Both men turned and looked to the door of the room they were occupying, Mycroft stood there looking bored.

“I assure you, you will not be our henchman lackey, as you put it.”

“Good because we plan on doing this our way. If John is to be a judge, it has to be on his terms, not that of the council.”

“You forget Sherlock, once everything has taken place, John will be part of the council.”

“I don’t want to be held under lock and key and dragged out only when I am needed to ‘judge’ or at council parties.”

“You're kept under lock and key here. I don’t see you complaining.”

John looked at Sherlock. “It's for my own safety.”

“And you don’t think you will need protection when your identity becomes known, and the fact that you are the new judge, _and_ you’ve come into power?”

John swallowed around the apprehension forming in his throat. “I will be better equipped to protect myself, also Sherlock will still be able to help keep me safe.” he argued.

“John we will not keep you locked in some room and only allow you out when you are needed. We are not barbarians. But I do think it is in your best interest to accept the help being offered.”

 

“Leave him alone Mymy. They will forge their own way.” A raspy voice came from behind Mycroft. John jumped to his feet to help Liam, but Sherlock reached out and stopped him as Mycroft turned slowly and Liam walked into his arms. Mycroft enveloped the smaller man in his embrace and John could hear him whispering to Liam, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

 

Mycroft pulled away, his back still to Sherlock and John. Someone sniffled. After a few moments Mycroft tucked Liam under his shoulder and lead him to the seat that John had vacated. John was standing in front of Sherlock and Sherlock was rubbing his thumb over John’s wrist.

 

Sherlock wasn’t sure how he would handle what was about to go down. But it was no worse and a hell of a lot more innocent then what John had witnessed him doing. He took a deep breath and pushed John forward.

John didn’t look back at Sherlock. He was getting his vibes loud and clear. He didn’t like him feeding Liam. Even though he had done it before. He guess the circumstances were a bit different. John approached Liam, he looked like crap but 100% better than the night before. He still had some bruising but no open wounds. His color had improved as well. “How you feeling?”

“Like ten different types of shit.” Liam rasped out.

John smiled, “That well huh? Let me feed you Liam.”

“I’m sorry John. I-”

“Shh, we can talk after you’ve fed.”

Mycroft pressed something cool into John’s hand. Looking down John saw that it was a tumbler. He laughed. Why hadn’t Sherlock or himself thought about this. Taking the glass John approached Sherlock who was looking at the floor. “Sherlock, would you do the honors?”

Sherlock looked up and saw John holding a glass and offering his wrist. Sherlock wanted to kiss him he was perfectly okay with feeding Liam this way. Sherlock lowered his mouth to John’s wrist, he placed a small kiss to the pulse before sinking his teeth in. He took the glass from John, placing it under John’s wrist. Sherlock began massaging John’s arm to help push the blood out faster. He and John held eye contact through the entire process.

When there was enough blood in the glass, Sherlock passed it over to Mycroft without breaking eye contact with John. He lifted his wrist to his mouth and ran his tongue over the puncture wounds sealing them closed.

John breathed in sharply, prolonged eye contact with Sherlock always made John feel dizzy and like he was drowning. He swayed a little under the intensity of Sherlock’s gaze, and when he saw Sherlock glance down at his mouth he groaned lowly. Needless to say he had completely forgotten about their guest.

 

“Ahem ahem. Thank you gentlemen for your generous hospitality.” Mycroft interrupted.

John looked around Sherlock over to the other two men in the room, Mycroft was smiling as if he disapproved of...well, everything. And Liam looked liked Liam again.

 

“John, would you like to speak to me alone darling?”

John looked up at Sherlock and back to Liam. “Yes, I supposedly I would.” John left the room and Liam followed behind him.

 

“So, you and Liam are together?” Sherlock asked when they were alone.

Mycroft looked down at the chair and wiped at it even though the seat was clean, before sitting. “Yes. For the last 350 odd years.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but how could you allow Liam to go with Moriarty knowing he would- that they would be intimate?”

“I assure you Sherlock it was not easy. But it was something we had agreed upon a long time ago. And I have to trust that he knows what he is talking about when it comes to all of this prophecy business.”

“So you only have his word to go on that this prophecy is even true?”

“You’ve done your research Sherlock, you’ve seen mention of the judges before.”

“That is true, but he has had a long time to plant this prophecy idea all around the world if he had wanted to.”

Mycroft looked at Sherlock for a full minute before he spoke again. “Do you seriously think Liam would have put himself through what he just went through with Moriarty if this was a game? You’ve been there. Even when Moriarty had you believing that you enjoy that sort of treatment, that you deserve it, you would still do anything to make it stop, wouldn’t you Sherlock?”

Sherlock felt like a complete and utter dickhead for just suggesting what he had. Mycroft was right, no one would willingly put themselves through that for a game or a joke. “I’m sorry.”

 

In John’s room Liam sat on the bed leaning back against the headboard. John paced back and forth in front of the bed.

“John honey, come sit beside me. Let’s talk.”

John stopped pacing and sat down as requested.

“I am so sorry Liam. Had I known I-”

“You would have what John, went in my place? You would have died and that would have been a tragedy not only because you are a great person and this world needs more great people, but because the new line of judges depend upon your survival.”

“How is that now? You told Sherlock and I that we were destined for each other or something of another. Last I checked, two men can not have children.”

“It’s not like that. It’s almost like supply and demand. By you existing and using the power of the judges it will cause a chain reaction, returning the same power to other descendants of judges.”

“Uh huh. I see.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in and I know I’ve given you plenty of reason not to trust me, but that feeling that you’re fighting, the one that is saying you _can_ trust me, that is the one you should listen to.” Liam sat silently giving John a couple of moments to himself. “Ask me what you will doll, let’s get it over with.”

 

John went to get up again but Liam grabbed his arm, keeping him in place. “Be bold. Ask what you will.”

John turned to look Liam in the eyes. “Why?”

“Nope. You’ve been told why more than once now. And I know you understand the concept because you do it all the time, put yourself in harms way just to keep someone elss out of it. Ask me John.”

John took a deep breath and sat straighter, “Did you enjoy being with Moriarty?”

“Yes. But mainly no.”

“Wha-”

“Listen, I hated every minute of being there with him, but I can’t deny that at some point, the pain felt like pleasure and I wanted to...finish. But if I don’t have to, I will _never_ allow myself to be alone with Moriarty again under any circumstances.”

John nodded once. “Do you really believe that I am a descendant of one of the three siblings?”

“Yes. And Sherlock and Mycroft of the first vampire.”

“And where do you fit in?”

“I have druid blood and fae blood in me. I descend from a line of druids but not your line, not the strongest line. I am not what most people call a heavy hitter or a major player in this prophecy, I am more like the narrator.”

“Okay, Mycroft said we have to make Moriarty believe he is stronger than Sherlock?”

“No. Stronger than the two of you together. Moriarty knows there is something different about you. He doesn’t know what and honestly, I’m not sure if he cares. What he does know is that somehow, Sherlock’s feelings for you has upped his power level enough to make him that more dangerous. And as we surmised before he might even think it was a fluke. But if you are going to be around Sherlock for the time being he needs to assume Sherlock's power level would or could also be raised again. But we really do need to get the ball moving on your abilities, you haven’t even explored half of them.”

“Hold on a minute. Are you saying that Sherlock does gain abilities or power through me or because of his feelings for me?”

“In a way. Sherlock is already one of _the_ most powerful vampires in Europe. He's arguably in the top ten in the world. But, much like you, he has untapped power, mainly because he has never had the need to explore his limits. You give him a reason.” John stared at Liam waiting on him to elaborate. Liam sighed, “You being in harm's way or potentially being in harm's way is motivation for him to be his very best and strongest. Moriarty sees this.”

“All right. So Sherlock and I need to get at it then.”

 

John stood up and starter out the door of his room.

“I’m still the same person you know.”

“I know. But now that I know you’re okay...I just have- I have a lot of things to- on my mind. I uh, yeah.” John continued back to their lab where Mycroft and Sherlock was still speaking.

When the men walked in Sherlock and Mycroft stood.

 

Sherlock looked at John and noticed how tense he seemed and he straightened going on the defense. _Come here._

John went to stand by Sherlock’s side as told.

Liam stood next to Mycroft, taking his hand. “I am still moving in, to help with John’s training.”

Sherlock and John spoke at the same time,

“No, I don’t think so.” and “I think it would be best if you didn’t.”

Mycroft raised a brow at their statements and Liam looked hurt. “But, darling it- I need to help train you.”

“Sherlock and I have been managing my training just fine.”

“But you need someone experienced to show you, to help you handle the magic.”

“And when I am ready, I will call you. Thank you...for everything.”

 

Liam looked as though he was about to cry. Sherlock noticed Mycroft squeezing his hand.

“It’s okay, Liam, didn’t you say they will forge their own way. John is stubborn, not stupid. He’ll call.” In an uncharacteristic sign of affection Mycroft patted Liam’s cheek fondly. “Gentlemen.”

Mycroft took Liam’s hand and they vanished.

John looked alarmed.

Sherlock muttered, “Show off.” Taking John’s hand he lead them to the sitting room. “Spill it, what made you so upset when you were with Liam?”

“I don’t know. I mean, he’s okay. I know he is _really_ okay. And I guess now that worry is set aside, I’m feeling the betrayal. He should’ve been honest with me. With us!”

“Agreed. Dishonesty always leaves one feeling used and taken for a fool. But remember, we need you, you don’t, well won’t, need us.”

John and Sherlock was sitting on the couch. John took his hand again, “That’s where you’re wrong. I need you.”

Sherlock swallowed several times before speaking, trying to school his face to look neutral and unaffected by John’s words; yet forgetting John was an empath and could feel the turmoil rolling around in his gut. “Ah yes. You and I must take out Moriarty.”

John smiled at Sherlock. Had no one ever cared for him, just him, in spite of what he could bring to the table? The fear and uncertainty, the hope and the anxiety rolling off of Sherlock in waves was making John feel nauseous. 

Now that he knew he was an empath and what that meant John was able to separate his own feelings and emotions from others more readily.

He squeezed Sherlock’s hand and smiled even broader, “No, you idiot. I _need_ you. Despite this prophecy business. You have turned my life upside down, and at first, it was scary, but now, I feel free. I feel for the first time since the war I am where I belong and I can be me. Thank you.” John leaned forward, placing a kiss against Sherlock’s cheek.

Sherlock took a moment to let John’s words sink in.

“Liam told me I had barely scratched the surface of my abilities. And I thought about the truth serum business you and I were talking about, how I’ve had this ability and didn’t realize it.

It got me thinking what other abilities I may have and not really realize it or fooled around with. The fact that vampires can't lie to me comes in handy for obvious reasons. But remember when you were badgering me to try and move an object with my mind, and I lit all the candles instead?”

“Yes.”

“Well that is another practical ability for dealing with vampires. Pyrokinetic abilities would enable me to set a vampire on fire safely from a distance.”

“Very true. We should practice. We need to know the max distance you can set something or someone on fire. The max temperature of said fire and most importantly how quickly and accurately can you do it.”

Excitedly John added, “Not to mention how many times in a row I can do it before I need to stop.”

Sherlock looked at John with a smirk.

“What?”

“I am also very interested in knowing how many times you can do it in a row before you need to stop.”

  



	16. In The Interim

Sherlock rushed into the room with a fire extinguisher, spraying white foam all over the couch. 

John stood off to the side trying to look contrite but he could barely hold in his giggles. 

“I guess we should work on accuracy before we work on endurance.” Sherlock said haughtily. 

John couldn’t hold it in any longer, he burst out laughing, bent over doubled in two and holding his stomach. What Sherlock said was an understatement. This was the fifth fire Sherlock or John himself had to put out. All the others had been small, but this one just roared to life engulfing the couch. Sherlock had to run to the kitchen and get the extinguisher.

Sherlock watched John laughing hysterically, a smile started creeping across his face, John’s laughter was infectious and soon he too was laughing along with John. 

 

When their laughter had subsided Sherlock commented, “There has got to be a safer and more organized way to perform these test.”

Smiling John responded with, "I am so sorry Sherlock. Maybe we should do the training outdoors.”

“S’okay. I never really liked that couch anyways. Outdoors would be idea but too many places for prying eyes to conceal themselves.”

“Maybe a handheld infrared thermometer. For measuring how hot the fire gets. And I need to try and focus and ‘aim’ the fire so we won’t have to go outside.” John speculated out loud.

“I have a vast amount of resources, I’m sure we will figure out something. For now let’s concentrate on discovering other abilities. Let's make a list of things that would be handy in controlling vampires and then try and correspond what abilities you may have.”

“Well, we know I have telepathy, pyrokinesis, empathy, remote viewing, and the truth serum ability, as you call it.”

“And Liam said you barely scratched the surface of your abilities? That’s already an impressive list. And to be honest I can't think of anything else you might need to punish and control vampires.”

“Oh! Don’t forget sensitivity to power. I wonder if that also includes magic?”

“Probably not because you didn’t realize Moriarty was using.”

“But in my defense I wouldn’t have known what I was sensing. I think a good course of action would be for me to look up each of these abilities to see what each is about and then start practicing.”

“Sounds like as good a place to begin as any. Didn’t Liam say something about introducing you to magic?”

John gave Sherlock a hard stare. “Yes. But let me master what I already know before I tackle anything else.”

* * *

 

Several weeks had gone by. In the time that had passed Sherlock built a ‘training’ room out behind the house. It was not only sound proof, the inside was lined with a thick metal layer covered with cement so that it was essentially fire proof as well. Sherlock said the metal would help keep others from trying to read the minds of anyone in the building, and the cement was so that John could practice his pyrokinesis without fear of burning down the house or the woods surrounding their place.

They had performed many trials of John’s different abilities, some successful, some not. But Sherlock and John both felt he now had a major understanding and grasp of his abilities. He could execute each on demand now, although John still struggled with accuracy with his pyrokinesis. Fortunately he was much better than before; 87% of the time he hit his target, and the other 13% he hit close to his target with no _major_ disasters. 

Sherlock had only dared two live trials in public; the first went very wrong, almost catching a group of homeless people on fire. Sherlock chalked it up to John being extremely nervous; and besides he nailed the second one a week later. 

Soon they would be calling Liam to focus on the magic portion of John’s training. Tonight they were going out to celebrate his success thus far and do several live test at Sherlock’s club. 

 

They hadn’t heard anything from Moriarty in the entire time John had been training. Mycroft had also kept his distance. Liam however kept calling on them. He had informed Sherlock that Moriarty was not idle while they were training; he was building an army of vampires opposed to the council with intentions of Moriarty himself heading the new council.

 

On the personal front Sherlock and John were moving excruciatingly slow. Sometimes they shared a bed, sometimes they didn’t. Sherlock seemed to like to cook for John and John always tried to get Sherlock to join him. 

Sherlock also refused to feed in front of John. He usually rose earlier than John and fed in the mornings or he went out while John was eating breakfast. 

Both men were obviously very taken with the other, but for reasons known only to themselves, they both were hesitant, maybe even afraid to make the first move. 

They cuddled in front of the telly and made out often. Sherlock tended to be very affectionate, rewarding John with kisses and kind words when he performed well. Honestly, Sherlock found any reason to touch John, even if it was just a lingering touch across the hand. And John wasn’t much for initiating the contact, but he would stand exceedingly close to Sherlock, usually with barely a breath between them. Nevertheless still not touching. 

John was the empath but Sherlock was getting remarkably familiar with John’s different moods and feelings. What set John off in anger, what caused him to become frustrated as well as what made him smile or become a little hot and bothered.

 

Over the course of his three centuries on earth Sherlock had learned a thing or two about the art of gentle seduction. Sherlock wanted John with every fiber of his body. But it wasn’t just physically or sexually, he loved John’s easy going spirit, his generosity, his fierce protectiveness; even his explosive anger.

But he was human. He could get hurt and die. Or he could live a long full life, but in the end he would still die. It was the reason Sherlock hesitated, but, he continued to woo John Watson anyway. He wanted him to come to him on his own. And maybe he could talk him into being turned.

 

John was in his room, he’d just dressed for their night out. They had no clue if Moriarty would be in attendance. Liam said he would be there. He and Liam was on more friendly terms than before. He used to get angry anytime he heard Sherlock talking to him. And slowly, he began taking Liam’s calls. They were never long or invasive. It was almost like Liam was courting him. But he knew it was all about the bottom line, reinstating the line of judges. 

Sherlock too had been courting him, but he didn’t mind Sherlock at all. He enjoyed and looked forward to the attention. He just couldn’t bring himself to go to Sherlock first. He wasn’t quite sure why. He suspected it was because he was afraid of being pushed away. He wasn’t blind, or stupid; he knew Sherlock was keen on him. However, for someone of Sherlock's age, and um, experience, John didn’t want to be just another distraction. He wanted to matter to Sherlock. Him; not his abilities or his supposed legacy. He was human after all, life was fleeting.

 

John was pleased with his progress thus far, but he kept trying to push Sherlock to work on the cure. He cared for the enigmatic vampire. He often wondered if Sherlock would be willing to take the cure himself if he got it working.

_ John. Are you ready?  _ Came Sherlock’s voice in his head.  _ Almost. _ John answered back automatically.

John looked over his image in the full length bathroom mirror. He was wearing one of the outfits he himself had picked out. He ran a nervous hand over his hair. Taking one last look at himself he turned out the light and went in search of Sherlock.

 

Sherlock stood by the garage door waiting on John. He was excited and he could feel his power shimmering just beneath his skin in response. 

John walked around the corner and towards him. Sherlock’s breath caught at the sight of him. John had been letting his facial hair grow over the past couple of weeks. And Sherlock had mentioned to him that he liked the scruffy look on him. John usually blushed and said something dismissive like he wasn’t going anywhere so he didn’t have to get all cleaned up. Sherlock now understood. John was still sporting facial hair but he trimmed it up, looking very dapper. Even his hair had been artfully styled. Not a hair was out of place on his head or face. 

Sherlock unconsciously licked his lips as he took in the rest of John’s look. He wore well fitting smoke grey slacks, a light grey button up dress shirt, opened at the throat, and a black blazer also left open. 

Sherlock hadn’t noticed he'd moved until he was running his knuckles along the side of John’s face. In a thick, hushed voice Sherlock said, “I don’t know how I ever find the power to resist you.”

John reached up, covering Sherlock’s hand with his own. They didn’t speak, simply stared at one another for a weighted moment.

 

John removed his hand from Sherlock’s, drawing in a deep breath he took a step back and held out his arms. “So does that mean you approve of my choice in clothes this evening?” 

“I more than approve.” growled Sherlock as he reached out dragging John flush against him, claiming his mouth.

Sherlock was an expert kisser and John allowed himself to enjoy the feel of Sherlock’s tongue sweeping into his mouth. Sherlock moaned into the kiss and John answered with one of his own. 

 

John and Sherlock pulled away at the exact same time. “Let’s go Sherlock. I would like to get this over with.”  He strode past Sherlock going into the garage. “Which vehicle are we taking?” 

Sherlock looked between the handful of cars in his garage. He should’ve called the car service that way he could’ve enjoyed time with John before reaching the club. He didn’t really want to draw too much attention to themselves tonight. “Let’s take the BMW.”

“All right.” John grabbed the corresponding key from a hook on the wall, unlocking the vehicle he slid into the passenger seat. Sherlock got behind the wheel and John passed him the key and he started the car.

 

Turning to John, Sherlock couldn’t help but press another kiss to his slightly down turned lips. “What’s wrong? Why are you frowning?”

“I don’t know, there’s something different about your energy tonight.”

Sherlock turned his attention inward; he could feel power thrumming with excitement, but he sensed nothing amiss. “I don't know what it could be. Nothing is different.”

“Hmm. Probably nothing.” John replied 

 

“John, you understand the plan and goal for the night, correct?”

“Of course. There is no plan and the goal is to practice each of my gifts with a successful outcome.”

“I don’t want to know what you’re going to do, I want to be just as surprised as everyone else.”

“I got it Sherlock.”

John reached across the center console and took Sherlock's hand that was resting on his leg. 

“Everything is going to be fine Sherlock.” 

Sherlock spared a quick glance at John. “I know that.”

 

When they arrived to the club Sherlock parked in a spot that stayed vacated for him. He picked up John’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. John continued to stare forward, he didn’t want Sherlock to see the fear in his eyes. 

“I'll see you inside.” Sherlock exited the car and entered the club through the back entrance. 

 

John closed his eyes and took several deep breaths through his nose and exhaling through his mouth he was attempting to ground himself and sharpen his senses as well as his abilities. He had taken to meditating to help him get in the right frame of mind before a training session. 

John made sure his wall was up around his mind while simultaneously lowering his psychic shields. He opened himself up to his surroundings, letting his empathic abilities get a feel for the place. As his mind roamed over the inside of the establishment, John noticed a dark stain over a small section of the club. Getting out of the car John felt drawn to the darkness. He felt as if there was a string tied around his waist and whoever was situated in that dark section was pulling him foward.

The closer he got, he began picking up random images. The images moved quickly like a movie in fast forward, it was all he saw; he didn’t see the people or club around him.

 

Sherlock and Liam were seated at Sherlock’s usual table. They weren’t talking simply waiting for John to make his appearance. 

John walked by their table on the left, he didn’t acknowledge the men in the slightest. Sherlock was on alert instantly. He sat up abruptly prepared to lend aid to his brave doctor.

Liam grabbed Sherlock’s arm, and snatched his hand back as if burned. He looked up at Sherlock with shock. Sherlock was looking at him in disdain, his blue eyes glowing with an inner light. 

For the first time since meeting the famed vampire Liam was frightened. Sherlock’s power was electrical in it’s intensity, white hot. Liam frowned because he sensed no surge in power from Sherlock yet there was no mistaking his power level was through the roof. With a shaky voice Liam spoke up. “Sherlock, John is working, he is using one of his abilities, don’t interrupt him, you could cause him to lose his focus.”

Sherlock leaned back against the seat, draping his arms artfully across the back. “Target?” he asked.

Liam relaxed a little. “Yes target. He is using dowsing, which is like a locating spell without the spell. He is in a type of trance while he homes in on the offender. It’s a one of his judge powers kicking in. There is a mighty offender here, someone who has spilled so much blood, that his crimes call out for retribution.”

“So we should just sit back and see how he handles the night?” Sherlock questioned incredulously.

“Yes and no, I imagine if things go the way they should, we’ll be throwing a “Judge Coming Out” party.

Sherlock stiffened at this news. “We aren’t ready for that.”

“Nature seems to think you are. Besides, once he is on a trail you can’t pull him off it. He sees nothing around him it’s like following GPS. And I’ve heard while they are trailing a target, the crimes of the vampire play on an endless loop in their mind, that way they see first hand what they’ve done and they can decide on the severity of punishment. Based on the fact that this power was jump started, I would say the vampire here, his crimes were a doozy and it will be a scorcher.”

 

John saw bloody death, after bloody death. Torture, rape and the utter joy the vampire took from his crimes. A fire took hold in John's soul as he came face to face with the offender. 

John’s vision returned to him. The images ceased as he heard himself speak. “You have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death.”

A few people close to the duo heard John’s words and stopped dancing, watching, waiting to see how it would play out. The offender himself snickered at John’s words.

“Would you like to plead your case?” John asked.

The vampire laughed again. “What can you do?  _ Human _ .” In his head John heard the vampire’s unspoken words.  _ I enjoyed every bit of it. _

  
Suddenly the vampire was engulfed in flames. His screams rang out. The music stopped abruptlyl; there was a moment of quiet where all you could hear was the screams of the vampire and then pandemonium broke out as the vampires ran, trying to escape the fire. The vampires were all trapped. The doors would not open.


	17. Burn

Sherlock bolted out of his seat, halfway to John before Liam cut him off. The other man cowered and trembled with fear. “Oh no you don’t darling, we have to let this play out. We have to know his strengths and weaknesses.”

Sherlock took several breaths in an attempt to calm himself. He could feel his power rushing through his veins like his blood use to. He felt drunk on his own power, and it gave him pause.  _ Where had this power rush come from? Why was he acting so irrationally? And why did he have a burning need to tear Liam in half and be done with his annoying chunter and habit of keeping him from John? Was he trying to keep the two of them apart? _ Sherlock turned his glowing gaze to Liam and watched as the man’s terror level rose another notch. 

Liam began mumbling rapidly under his breath. He wasn't _sure_ exactly what had gotten into Sherlock but he knew his life was in danger. He hurriedly recited an incantation that would leach some of Sherlock’s power away and hopefully give him a cooler head. He finished the incantation and watched Sherlock closely.

Sherlock felt slightly dizzy like when you stood up too fast or fell from a height unexpectedly. Sherlock looked at Liam, narrowing his eyes, “What did you do to me?” he growled.

Liam squeaked in fear. “I-I uh, I lessened your power level momentarily so you could think clearly.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock said, drawing the words out. He looked out to John and watched as he added several more vampires to his undead bonfire. Alarmed, he saw a couple of vampires try to sneak up on John from behind, and as Sherlock went to move forward, Liam once again grabbed him, keeping him from offering aid to John. To his utter surprise he witnessed John throw out a hand behind him, without turning to look, he held the vampires locked in place, stopping them from advancing; or retreating. 

 

Suddenly the fire went out and all that was left was a pile of ash. All the doors flew open; the scared, trapped vampires took off. Except for the vampires John held frozen with his emerging powers. John turned to face the held fast vamps. Liam and Sherlock were shocked to see John’s eyes were completely white. “You have tried to interfere with the sentencing, for that you shall be punished.”

One vampire began apologizing profusely but John continued as if he couldn’t hear him. Raising his other hand with a closed fist, he rotated it quickly, and all of the vampire’s necks snapped, their bodies dropping to the floor limp. 

 

Sherlock watched, restless and anxious as the white slowly bled from John’s eyes. He blinked a couple of times and then looked over to Sherlock. A single tear escaped before he crumpled to the floor unconscious. 

Liam and Sherlock rusher over to John. Liam immediately checking his vitals and Sherlock pulling him into his lap. 

Sherlock could hear John’s heart beating sluggishly. He shoved Liam away and with his vampire speed he carried John out of the club and to the car. 

 

Liam sighed, sitting back on his heels he surveyed the club. There was almost no damage, and the vampires to his right would heal their broken necks and go on to spread through the vampire community that John was a vampire hunting monster. Pulling out his phone he dialed Mycroft. 

“Hey Mymy,” Liam tried to sound chipper.

“What’s happened? Are you alright?”

Liam smiled at the way Mycroft was able to read him so easily and at the thickly veiled concern in his voice. “I’m fine boo thang.” Liam smiled again at Mycroft's exasperated sigh. He hated when Liam called him anything but his name. Except during sex. It was the only time Mycroft seemed to enjoy pet names. “But," he continued, "we may have a problem. John’s judging powers came fully online tonight.” 

“At the club?”

“Yes.”

“In front of witnesses I presume?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So what is the problem? It’s what we wanted.”

“Well love, you know how I’ve explained to you that my visions can sometimes be more of a hint or suggestion of things to come?”

“Yes.” Mycroft drew out the word not quite liking where he thought this may be going.

“Well, our research into the past judges may not have been exactly accurate.”

“What do you mean? I was around for the end of them.”

“Maybe John is a whole new breed, because what I seen tonight, it didn’t mesh with what we thought we knew. John won’t be able to be controlled. He didn’t even have control over himself once the power activated. It was like he was on autopilot and he had no say in what actually happened. His eyes had been completely frosted over- and he judged several vampires, harshly.”

“Define harshly.”

“4 vampires were burned to death. And another 3 who necks he snapped for trying to interfere.”

“But you said he didn’t seem to be in control, so he can’t really be blamed for this.”

“True. And when he seemed to snap out of the trance he cried before he collapsed unconscious.”

“Interesting.” 

“Mycroft!”

“What sensibility have you imagined that I have threaded upon my dear Liam?”

“Can you at least pretend to care about the wellbeing of our champion?”

“You are far too romantic for this cause. Would you have me give him my handkerchief as a token of my eternal gratitude and affection as well?” Liam didn’t answer and Mycroft could hear his pout through the phone. “Just because I find the situation interesting doesn’t mean I don’t care about what happens to our human.” Mycroft tried to placate Liam. 

“Lies. I can hear you already plotting to exploit this to work in your favor.”

“That  _ is  _ always utmost in my mind, staying in control; only second to _your_ happiness.”

Liam scoffed. “Don’t go trying to use that silver tongue on me mister!”

“I thought you rather liked when I used  _ my _ silver tongue on you.” Mycroft flirted.

“Don’t be crass. How do you want me to handle this? The vampires won’t be able to move until they heal their broken necks. Should I give them blood and speed up the process?” 

“God no; and risk revealing what you are? If John punished them, I’m sure they deserved it. Leave them to their misery. Come home Liam, I wish to see you.”

Liam smiled warmly. “I miss you boo. I'll be there soon.”

 

Sherlock broke every law of the road rushing to get John home. He was being very irrational he knew. John was breathing and there was no wounds to speak of. But in his mind if he just got him home he would be okay. 

Once Sherlock had gotten John home and laid out in his bed his phone rang; it was Liam. He cursed silently. He hadn’t even thought about the other man; picking up the phone Sherlock started speaking without the usual niceties. “I’m sorry Liam. I don’t know what’s gotten into me tonight. Are you safe?”

“Yes. And don’t worry about me, I'd done the same thing had it been Mycroft. I wanted to let you know John will be okay; he just expended too much energy, too quickly. He will have to sleep off the ill effects. And don’t be alarmed if he sleeps longer than usual. Oh, I locked up the club, leaving the vamps inside. It will take them a couple of days to heal anyways, they aren’t very old. When the club opens tomorrow night, I'm sure their people will fetch them.”

Sherlock was relieved and disturbed by the news Liam delivered, even though Liam said there was no reason to be concerned. “What the  _ hell  _ was that back there Liam? We were _not_ prepared for that!”

Despite the fact that a couple hundred miles separated he and Sherlock, Liam still trembled at the ire and unspoken threat in Sherlock's voice.

“I’ll be by tomorrow to talk.” There was silence between the two men. “Sherlock, I want you to know I was as surprised by tonight’s outcome as you.”

“Why is it that everytime I try to do something nice for John it backfires and everything goes to hell? Is he not meant to be happy?” Sherlock now sounded small and defeated; all the anger seeming to have abandoned him.

“He _is_ happy Sherlock. No life is without strife. But we’ll talk tomorrow boo.” Liam responded sympathetically before hanging up.

 

Sherlock sat on the edge of his bed, close to John’s prone body. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d already fed with anticipation of being at the club most of the night. But, things had progressed so fast, it was still considerably early. Sighing Sherlock stood and began to change into pyjamas. When he was done he began undressing John. He much rather have been doing this with a conscious and participating John, who was also eagerly tearing his clothes off as well. Honestly, he had hoped that was how their night would have ended; the ultimate celebration between the two of them. Sherlock stripped John down to his boxer briefs and undershirt. Climbing into bed with him he pulled the man into his arms and forced his breathing to a crawl, hoping to sleep for the same amount of time as John.

 

When Sherlock awoke his phone was going off; reaching out blindly for the phone. “Hello?” he answered groggily. 

“You’re still asleep?” came Liam’s voice through the phone.

“Yes.” Sherlock growled.

“Well come let me in, I’m at the front door.” Liam hung up.

Sherlock’s arm was asleep from John’s weight on him, he gently extracted himself from John, sighing. He wanted to remain right where he was until John woke up and gave him his patented sleepy smile. Sherlock shuffled to the living room and with his powers flung the door open, and shuffled back to his room snuggling back in the bed with John feeling very petulant. 

 

Liam’s head appeared around the door and he peeked in. “Issss it safe?”

“Course it is. John is still out. Besides, we aren’t-” Sherlock twirled his hand in the air gracefully yet vaguely. “That yet.” he finished lamely.

Liam smiled as he came in and sat gently on the bed on the side closest to Sherlock. “Wanna talk? Or you want to go back to sleep?”

Sherlock had closed his eyes back and now peeked out of one eye menacingly at Liam. “I would love to talk and get to the bottom of this, but I am sure John would like to be included in this conversation." 

"We can talk about you first."

"Me? What about me?" Sherlock said haughtily, closing his eyes back.

“I’m sure you noticed a difference in your power level last night.”

Sherlock hesitated before answering, “Yes.”

“Well I don’t know what that is about. I have a theory but I am not 100% sure.”

“So are you telling me that last night wasn't apart of your great big prophecy? You know, the part where through John I gain strength and social status. And he and I rule over the vampire world.” 

Liam tried to reign in his shock at Sherlock words, he hadn’t discussed that possibility with Sherlock, maybe John did? 

“Joking. Sorta. You did say when John took on his role of judge he and I would sit on the council; once the original council had been overthrown that is.”

“Well, I do think, and I shared this with John, that you yourself have untapped power. You have always tried to fly under the radar so you never really needed to or even wanted to test your limits. But your protective nature over John causes you to have power spikes. I believe -” Liam stopped speaking when he saw John take a deep shuddering breath. 

Sherlock wrapped his arms tighter around him and opened his eyes, looking John over, making sure he was okay. He was breathing normal now and appeared to simply be asleep.

Liam continued talking, “I believe the amount of power you have when it spikes is your real power level, not what you walk around day to day showcasing. And we all know that you downplay even that.” 

 

John was slowly becoming aware of his surroundings. He wrapped his arm around Sherlock’s waist and squeezed tight as he breathed in his scent. 

 

“So, are you suggesting I practice to bring my power out fully? Or just merely mentioning it as an aside?”

“I think it would be good to view this power as a reserve and practice using it on demand and not only when you are worried or excited like last night. Because we have to be honest. After last night, you’ll have angry, scared vampires looking for you with intent to not talk or hurt, but to kill. You both should be fully prepared.”

“That is something that would have been useful to know prior to being thrown in the deep end of this mess.” John said around a yawn.

“To be honest John, that should have been a logical assumption. Besides, you couldn’t avoid this, it’s not like you had a choice.”

“It still would have been nice to know. I had no clue how this would play out! I had no idea what judging actually consisted of!” John said angrily, pushing against Sherlock so he could sit up and confront Liam. 

“John I’m sorry. I had absolutely no idea that it would happen like that. There hasn't been any found detailed accounts of an actual judging. And anyone who has lived through one refuses to talk about it. How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

Sherlock squinted up at John, trying to determine if he was lying. “You were out for roughly 18 hours. Are you  _ sure  _ you’re okay?”

“Now that the nightmares have ended, yes. And I’m starving. Feed me Sherlock.”

Liam blanched, thinking as a vampire would, he assumed he was referring to a blood feeding. 

Sherlock's laughed. “Gladly. Put on some clothes while I go cook you something.”

 


	18. Finally

“So you had absolutely no control over your actions?”

John grunted an affirmative around a mouth full of french toast. Swallowing he add, "And it was like I was observing from a corner inside my own mind. If that makes any sense. I could see what my body was doing and I even understood the rationale, but I could do nothing to stop myself. Also I kept seeing their crimes over and over inside my mind. I couldn't stop that either. It was awful. _They_ were awful and I understand why something needed to be done about them, why they should be punished; but burned to death?”

John bit into a piece of bacon with noticeably less enthusiasm.

“It actually makes sense.” Sherlock spoke up.

“Excuse me? What does?” John inquired looking up at Sherlock.

“That you would have absolutely no control over the judging. I mean, from the research I had done previously stated that the past judges weren’t considered impartial enough. That they allowed their emotions to cloud their judging and that was the reason they lost their abilities. And if nature wanted to fix that, what better way than to do it yourself, through a vessel of course.”

John looked stricken at Sherlock's summation.

“Ehhh, I agree with the part about nature fixing what was wrong with the last judges, but I don’t believe John is merely a vessel. I do however believe that the abilities were given back with something a bit extra, call it what you will, John is being controlled by the power. Think of it like bloodlust Sherlock, when a vampire is hit with it it is a driving force inside of us that forces us to feed, we are unable to rationalize and we don’t care if the person we are feeding on is a loved one or enemy. I think the judges power is a bit like that. When John is hit with the need to judge someone, the power takes over.”

“Make sense.” Sherlock said absently.

“I believe John could learn to control it in time, much like how some vampires aren’t driven by bloodlust.”

“Oh thanks goodness.” John muttered, his gusto for the food seeming to return. Picking up a sausage link between his thumb and forefinger, John shook it at Sherlock, “The food is really good. I can’t seem to get over how good a cook you are. Thank you.”

Sherlock watched as John bit into the sausage, he felt a heat growing in his abdomen and spreading lower. Liam was talking but he didn’t hear a word he was saying. “Get out.” Sherlock snapped, not bothering to look at Liam.

Both John and Liam spoke at the same time.

“Excuse me?” Liam asked in confusion and John yelled, “Sherlock!”

Sherlock stared at John for a few heartbeats not saying anything, but sure his need was apparent in his eyes. Turning to face Liam he repeated himself, but saying the words slower as if Liam was unable to understand him. “Get...out.”

“But why, we still have-”

“Liam, shut up and leave, now!”

Liam looked at Sherlock for a long moment. Realization lit up his face and he nodded moving quickly, gathering his bag and shooting out the kitchen and calling out a farewell and blowing a kiss over his shoulder.

 

“What has gotten into you Sherlock, that was rude.”

Sherlock stood up towering over John, and when John looked up at him, he bent, burying a hand in the short hairs at John's neck and kissing him. It effectively silenced the other man.

Sherlock claimed John’s mouth in a kiss so feral, it made John happy that Liam had left because he would be concerned about his wellbeing if he tried to interrupt them. John fisted his hand in the front of Sherlock’s shirt, pulling him down further so John had more freedom to kiss him back. He ran his tongue along Sherlock’s bottom lip before shoving it into Sherlock's mouth and allowing their tongues to do battle. Sherlock moaned into the kiss. John stood up abruptly, trying not to break the kiss, he need to feel more of Sherlock. He ran his hands up Sherlock’s back beneath his shirt, producing a full body shudder from his vampire.

Sherlock broke the kiss first, it was usually John who did, but when he pulled his mouth away John zeroed in on his neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and running his teeth none too gently over the sensitive area. Sherlock held on to John’s shoulders as he continued the sensual attack on his neck, alternating between suckling, and nibbling his neck. Sherlock was shaking with desire. He pulled firmly from John’s embrace, struggling to catch a breath that he didn’t need. John growled low in his throat at the interruption, causing Sherlock’s cock to jump in his pyjamas. He grabbed John by the wrist and rushed towards his room pulling the shorter man behind him.

 

Once there he used their forward momentum to swing John in front of him and pushing him down on the bed. Eagerly he climbed atop John, straddling his lower thighs. Leaning forward Sherlock sunk his teeth into the fabric of John’s shirt and yanked, tearing the shirt in the process.

John inhaled sharply.

Sherlock used his hands to rip the rest of the shirt away, placing hurried kisses to the exposed skin of John’s chest. He’d waited so long for this he had to remind himself to slow down. This wasn’t Moriarty, he could be gentle if he wanted. In fact, it was what he loved most about his human, John Watson, he accepted Sherlock no matter what. He didn’t place stipulations or demands on him. He accepted Sherlock for who he was, flaws and all.

Forcing himself to stop, Sherlock sat up, looking down at John. John’s eyes were hooded, but there was no doubt in Sherlock’s mind that he saw everything. His face was flushed and lips red and slightly swollen from Sherlock's kisses. Leaning forward he took John’s lips in a slower, gentler kiss. Pressing their lips together repeatedly before sliding his tongue in languidly. Stroking the recesses of John’s mouth, savoring and tasting him. He could taste the remnants of John’s “breakfast”.

John took direction from Sherlock, allowing the man above him to slow them down, draw it out. He ran his fingers lightly down Sherlock’s back, pulling the shirt up.

Sherlock sat up so that he could remove his shirt completely. He reveled in the look of adoration on John’s face as he took in his naked upper body, trailing fingers over his skin lightly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. John loved him. It was plain and clearly on his face. Sherlock smiled suddenly. It wasn’t a seductive smile, or wicked smile, it was a deep from the bottom of his heart, full of happiness smile.

John smiled back tentatively, “What?” he questioned.

“I love you John Watson.”

John’s smile faltered and fell completely.

Sherlock panicked, could he have been wrong? He let his smile fade from his face.

John sat up, looking Sherlock in his eyes, he licked his lips, looking away. And back up again; “I- I uh,” his face broke into a wide goofy grin and then dropped, “I love you too Sherlock,” he left his statement open ended like he was going to add something to it.

“But…” Sherlock prompted.

“Nothing, just that.” John buried his fingers in the curls at the back of Sherlock's neck, pulling him forward to meet him in a kiss. He brushed Sherlock’s lips tenderly with his own from corner to corner. “I love you Sherlock Holmes.” he repeated in a more assured whisper against his lips.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, sliding his tongue pass John's already parting lips. He let the kiss intensify as he leaned forward pressing John back into the bed. He kissed his way down John’s body, hooking his fingers under the waistband of John's pyjama bottoms and pulling them free of John’s body.

Sherlock ran his nails over John’s sensitive skin producing a low moan from his lips. Still on his knees, Sherlock leaned forward taking John's erection into his mouth.

John’s hands twitched on the covers beside him. The sensation of Sherlock’s hot mouth closed around him was almost too much. When Sherlock started to move his head up and down his length, John lost the modicum of control he had. He cried out loud, “Oh fuuuuuck. Sherlooock….fuuu…”

Sherlock stood up, letting John slide from his mouth in the process. He pulled off his own pyjama bottoms and reached into the drawer beside the bed pulling out a bottle of lube.

 

Climbing back on the bed Sherlock continued where he left off, taking John in his mouth again, he began lavishing attention on the head of John’s prick while he poured lube on his fingers. John’s eyes were closed and his hands were fisted in the sheets, his body trembled with need and a fine sheen of sweat had broken out across his well defined body. Sherlock slipped his fingers along the crease of John’s arse, running a finger  around his tight entrance.

Sherlock continued to bob his head up and down over John,  hollowing his cheeks on the up strokes and massaging with his tongue on the down. John was moaning and begging in an incoherent line of gibberish.

Sherlock was working a single long finger in and out of John, pushing past the ring of muscles, stretching preparing him. As Sherlock was preparing to add a second finger he pushed his head down fast, letting John hit the back of his throat and a little beyond. The urge to cough was strong but Sherlock held the position, humming. Adding the second finger, Sherlock began scissoring his fingers back and forth, stretching John. He pulled back to just the head, running his tongue around the swollen, leaking tip. John had a hand burrowed in Sherlock's hair pressing down as he also thrust up with his hips. In John’s excitement, Sherlock was able to add a third finger running them repeatedly over his sensitive little nub. He spoke to John mentally, _That’s it mon cœur, see how good it feels. Come for me John, let me see you come, mmm...I want to hear you scream my name.”_

John groaned with the mental intimacy, he was so close he couldn’t think straight.

 

Sherlock started sucking him in long deep strokes, the head of John’s cock hitting the back of his mouth each time, his fingers were doing a circular dance in and out of John, still rubbing against his prostate with each pass. John was quietly whining and his body shook, Sherlock could feel John's body tightening around his fingers; he was close. Synchronizing mouth and fingers Sherlock brought John to a screaming release.

“Fuccc-...Sher-...Sherlock! Mmmnn…”

John erupted inside Sherlock’s mouth _. Mmm, you look so bloody hot when you come mon cœur. Thank you._

 

John panted, trying to catch his breath and Sherlock slid along his sweat dampened skin and lay over him, kissing along his jaw and neck. He was achingly hard against the inside of John's thigh.

John lazily reached up a hand and stroked Sherlock’s back. “S-sorry bout that.” John breathed out roughly, still out of breath.

“Don’t apologize, you taste divine.”

John’s cock twitched at Sherlock words, he couldn’t _possibly_ go again.

 

Sherlock laughed, catching his thought. He kissed John on the chin and nibbling his way down his neck.

He continued to kiss, nibble and lick at John’s body, raising his interest again. Looking his human in the eye he asked, “Are you ready?” He was already stroking lube along his own length and Sherlock groaned at how good it felt. His eyes drifted close for a heartbeat and when he reopened them John replied with a simple, “Yes.”

 

Sherlock snagged one of the pillows and placed it under John’s hips. Settling between his thighs, Sherlock lined himself up with John’s entrance, laying flush against him, Sherlock kissed him deeply as he slowly pushed in.

John broke the kiss, mouth opening in a wide 'O’. He let out a quiet grunt as Sherlock kept sliding his considerable length in. He gripped at Sherlock’s shoulders, already feeling full and as if he couldn't take anymore.

When Sherlock was fully sheathed inside John he groaned at how good it felt. He’d waited quite a while to be where he was and all he wanted was to bury himself repeatedly to the hilt inside his love. But this was John’s first time and he needed to be considerate of that.

 

He ran his tongue over the vein in John’s neck, grazing it with his teeth, sucking at the skin. _You feel so good John. I just want to stay like this forever._ He gave a experimental rock forward. Both men moaned. Sherlock set an excruciatingly slow pace. He hooked an arm under John’s thigh and brought the leg up, allowing him to slide deeper.

John gasped. “Sherlock!”

“Shh, I got you love. Mmm...You feel so bloody good baby.” Sherlock picked up the pace, rolling his hips as he moved in and out of John. The men's moans filled the room.

John rocked his hips forward, “Ohh…”

Kissing John, Sherlock swallowed his moans as he thrust faster and deeper. _Joooohn, oh my John...feels...ahhh._ Sherlock breathed through John’s mind. The slap of slick skin filled the room. Sitting back on his heels, Sherlock looked down and watched himself disappear in and out of John’s body. It was too much. Closing his eyes he reached for John’s hand, fingers entwined he stroked John’s erection with his other hand.

“Mmm...faster Sher- faster.”

Sherlock complied stroking John faster and driving into him. John was beginning to leak on Sherlock’s hand, he pumped faster, twisting his hand a bit at the end of each stroke, stimulating the head. John was loud now, Sherlock loved it. “Gah...oh, oh...yes...ple-pleassse....mmm Sherlock.” He repeated Sherlock’s name. “John. My sweet John.”

John was thrusting up into Sherlock’s hand, his cadence clipped and erratic. “Sherloooock!” he began squirting all over Sherlock’s hand and his stomach.

“Yesss.” Sherlock hissed. Leaning forward Sherlock took John’s mouth in a furious kiss as he thrust hard and deep, so close to his own orgasm. Burying his face against John's neck he repeated his name over and over. “John. John. John.”

John wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist and his arms around his shoulders. “Yes. Sherlock yes.” he whispered.

Just as Sherlock was coming he bit John in the neck. Sucking hard, John cried out, coming again.

 

Sherlock gave little thrust as he came inside John, emptying himself. He licked the wound in John’s neck, sealing it; and in one fluid motion he rolled so John was laying on top of him, cocooned in his arms. Sherlock ran his hands up and down John in a soothing manner.

 

“That, was amazing.” John whispered against Sherlock’s chest. “We should’ve done that a long time ago.” He shivered.

Sherlock chuckled as he wrapped the now loose covers around them. “Agreed.”


	19. Prove It

Sherlock held a sleeping John in his arms. The past couple of hours had been far better than Sherlock could’ve hoped for. He had held reservations about crossing that line with John, but he was so happy that he did. John loved him. Admittedly. Sherlock had never been filled with this much unadulterated bliss. He had thought he was in love with Moriarty way back, lifetimes ago; but Moriarty himself showed Sherlock the error of his heart. He had only been obsessed with Moriarty, the mystery and intrigue of Moriarty, he had appeared to be so beautiful back then. He was too much for Sherlock to resist. 

Sherlock being of meager stature and having a man of Moriarty’s standing show interest in him…Sherlock needed to change his line of thinking. Moriarty was his past, looking down at John, Sherlock placed a kiss to John’s forehead, John could be his future. 

 

Sherlock let his mind drift back to their earlier coupling. They had made love two more times, the last time with John topping; teaching John how to touch him and prep him for bottoming had been very rewarding. And knowing he shared this first with John meant a lot to him. He found that he sometimes got irrationally jealous where John was concerned. 

 

John had been so concerned and gentle with Sherlock. He kept checking to make sure Sherlock was okay. At one point he was convinced he had hurt Sherlock with his 'big fat sausage fingers’, John’s words, not his own. 

John was a very generous lover, he almost felt sorry for the score of women who would never have the chance to experience John Watson. Almost. John was completely wore out, and to be honest, Sherlock felt like he too could use some sleep, but his mind just wouldn’t settle down. 

 

Sherlock jolted up. He must have fallen asleep after all. John being startled awake is what had woken him. 

John sat with sleep still clinging heavily to him and stared up at the ceiling. “Sherlock, can you feel them? They’re so strong...their power...it’s hurting my head.” John was no longer looking up, but had his head buried in his hands, fingers digging into his scalp. 

Alarmed Sherlock grabbed John’s hands and pulled him back into his arms, whispering it was going to be okay. But Sherlock didn’t know what was going on. He couldn’t sense whatever it was that John sensed. He rocked John back and forth. After several minutes Sherlock felt the first trickle of power skate over his skin. “John, baby, you need to get up, get dressed.” Sherlock spoke gently. 

John whimpered it literally felt like his head was being split open. 

Sherlock helped John get up and dressed and then he did the same. 

 

Sherlock and John made their way to their sitting room to await their guest. He sat John in his leather chair and massaged his temples. 

“Oh God Sherlock. They are so powerful. And old. I think they are council members.”

“They are. How many do you sense?”

“I’m not sure but, I sense four separate power signatures, maybe? Mycroft is with them. Why would he be with them? Did he betray us?” John's voice became elevated.

“Shh, mon cœur, he did not. But he can’t let on that he is helping us either.”

“They're here. I have to pull it together.”

“Or maybe not, appearing weak has always helped me in the past.” Sherlock suggested.

 

There was a single heavy knock at the door. Leaving John seated in the chair Sherlock opened the door. Five vampires stood on his stoop. One of them John couldn’t detect. Sherlock stepped to the side of the door, “Please, won’t you come in momentarily of your own volition?”

 

A tall, muscular man of African decent entered first. He had the skin color of milk chocolate, bald with green eyes, he was dressed in an extremely expensive suit that had been obviously tailored to fit his body. “John this strapping fellow here is Ephraim.”

“How’d you do?” John responded politely.

Next entered a woman of tall stature. She was  the opposite of Ephraim in almost every way, except for height. She was of Scandinavian decent, thus she was pale with ice blue colored eyes and pale blonde hair. She was a very slender woman, dressed in a simple sheath dress the same color as her eyes. “John, this lovely lady is Ellanora.

“Pleasure madam.”

Up next was Mycroft, “John this prestigious  _ old _ chap is Mycroft, head of the vampire council.” John struggled to get up. 

“Do sit back down John, you don’t look well.” Mycroft turned and gave Sherlock a calculating look before taking the reclining seat across from John. Mycroft covertly took in John’s appearance, this was not missed by John nor Sherlock. 

Next entered a stout man of average height, he had flaming red hair and freckles all over his reddened face. He was dressed in the traditional kilt of the Scotsmen. He was grinning from ear to ear and clapped Sherlock heartily on the back as he entered. “This lively bloke is Baxter.” John simply waved, despite Baxter's friendly demeanor John didn’t like him and he didn’t want the man to touch him. “How’d you do laddie? Yer don’ be looking well.” 

“I'll be fine, thank you.” 

That was 4 people, yet Sherlock still held the door open, from his view point, John could only see Sherlock but not beyond the door. Suddenly a power so strong washed over John that he began to shake violently. A woman of exquisite beauty walked in. She was petite and curvaceous where Ellanora was tall and slender. She was also of African decent, with skin the color of cafe con leche, and ink black wavy hair that fell to her small waist. She had regal air about her but was dressed in a modern dark purple pantsuit and matching heels. She turned to look at John, the first thing he noticed was her eyes. They were almond shaped and slightly turned up at the corners with long sweeping lashes, but what really got John's attention was the color of her eyes. Her eyes were as dark as the night sky, and there appeared to be a twinkle in them just as well. “John, this ravishing beauty is called Rayne. She is thought of as the queen of our motley crew.” Sherlock closed the door and went to stand behind John. This time John did struggle to his feet, Sherlock reaching out to steady him. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you ma’am. Please take my seat.” 

Rayne turned and looked at Mycroft, “See Mycroft, a real gentleman. You could learn a thing or two from him. Thank you John, but that Is not necessary.” She sauntered over +to the couch and sat down in the exact middle of it, crossing her legs as she did. 

Ellanora and Ephraim sat on either side of her, leaving a grinning Baxter standing along with John and Sherlock. 

 

Just as John was about to sit again he was assaulted with a mental push so hard it staggered him. He looked up at Baxter who hadn’t let his smile slip. 

“You all right there laddie?” 

“Ye-” John again was hit with a mental push followed by an onslaught of mental images of rape, murder, cruelty and all manners of degradation. It seemed like to John every vampire, save for Sherlock had simultaneously let their walls down. He was sure that he was getting the crimes of two separate vampires playing in his mind. And the weight of their power reeked havoc on his mind. John could feel the judge power wanting to take over but he was so weak and tired. 

Sherlock hooked an arm around John’s waist, and looked to Mycroft, “What is the meaning of this?”  Ellanora was the one to answer. “A simple test darling. He doesn't seem to be much. A _judge_.” she scoffed and laughed. 

_ Sherlock, keep your power under control. They are here for me, this is not about you.  _

_ The hell you say. She insults you. They violate you in our home. And they can see you aren’t well, they’re just a bloody group of bullies.  _ Sherlock spat back angrily.

 

John was struggling. The power of the judges was trying to force his body to judge but he was unable to even tell who the offenders were.  _ I can’t sit back and watch this. Use my power John.  _ Sherlock pictured himself forcing his power into John, he wasn’t sure if something like this could work, but their life was anything but normal at this point, so why not?

John’s body bowed backwards under the weight of power being forced into him. Abruptly he snapped upright, his eyes completely white, he first turned to Baxter. For the first time this evening, he wasn’t smiling. In fact he looked terrified and he had gone pale. “You have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death. Would you like to plead your case?”

Baxter started blubbering incoherently. “I- I had no- no idea what I- I was doing w-was wrong.” he finally stammered out. 

“Death.” Baxter burst into flames. John looked at Ellanora, “You have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to  _ morte pequena,  _ small death. Would you like to plead your case?” Ellanora stood up and rushed John, he threw out a hand, stopping her in her tracks. “For the assassination attempt of a chosen judge, your sentence is death.” John stared at Ellanora intently, she suddenly screamed out, her voice high pitched and shattering the mirror over the fireplace and the glass votives around the room. Blood began to run from her eyes and nose. John flicked his other hand and Baxter ceased to burn, falling into nothing but a pile of ash. A moment longer and then Ellanora screams turned into a gurgling sound then completely stopped altogether. John lowered his hand, and her body fell unceremoniously to the floor. Another flick of his wrist ignited her lifeless body.

 

Sherlock stood to the side, dazed by the rapid loss of his power and the events. John had just killed two council members in the span of minutes. He looked to Mycroft and the other two remaining council members. Ephraim was clearly shook up whereas Mycroft tried to hide his unease. Rayne on the other hand looked pleased. John extinguished Ellanora’s body. Nothing but a pile of ash remained of her as well. 

The front door opened and a gust of wind swept through scattering the ashes outside. 

 

John’s eyes slowly changed back to his normal color, he no longer looked weak and tired. He looked to Rayne, “Madam, I must apologize for tonight’s unpleasantness. I hope it hasn’t colored your opinion of me and my partner.” John held out his hand and Sherlock stood and walked to stand beside him, sliding his hand into John’s.

Rayne stood up. John could feel the weight of her power still but with the aide of Sherlock’s power, it no longer bowed him or hurt his head. Sherlock on the other hand stood up only by the force of his own willpower. 

“No, not at all Dr. Watson.” she smiled and walked to the still open door. Ephraim nodded to the duo and followed Rayne to the door. Mycroft stood, “It appears our welcome has expired, I bid you two goodnight.” The trio walked out of the house, with Mycroft closing the door close behind them. 

Sherlock literally sagged against John leaving the shorter man to catch him and guide him to his chair; he kneeled in front of him. “Are you okay Sherlock?”

Sherlock cupped John’s face. “Are  _ you  _ okay?”

John nodded. 

“God! I didn’t think that would work. Thank goodness it did.”

“Thank you.”

Sherlock patted John’s cheek and then lowered his hands. He was pale and now felt weak. “If this is how you felt before I gave you my power, I am so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I imagine you were weak from blood loss, last night’s judging and lack of sleep.”

John shrugged his shoulders, smirking a bit. “Maybe, but not your fault. Besides, the lack of sleep and blood loss was definitely worth it.” 

John closed his eyes and imagined power flowing from himself back to Sherlock. 

Sherlock sighed. The flow of power was like a gentle breeze, it washed over him and settled into his very being. It was far more gentle than when he’d done it to John. 

When John opened his eyes, Sherlock was smiling fondly at him. John leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against Sherlock's. 

A phone began to ring. They had absently left their phones in the bedroom in their haste to meet the members of the council. John jogged to the room retrieving his mobile. He walked back to the sitting room as he answered. “Hello?”

Liam shouted through the phone. “Tell me everything! And leave nothing out!” 


	20. Seriously?

Liam sat nursing a cup of tea with a shot of bourbon, while John was eating a sandwich. Sherlock had ran out to feed and would most likely be back shortly.

“Wow. Baxter and Ellanora are gone. I liked Baxter. He was always so jovial.”

“Yeah? Well he was one sick, sadistic bastard. I honestly wish I could burn that one again.”

Liam’s eyes went big at John’s words. John was a man of peace. He acted in violence when need be but he never wanted to take a life if it could be avoided. “Do I even want to know what his crimes were?” Liam said rhetorically.

John shook his head, popping the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth.

“So, the thing with Ellanora was new.” John said in way of changing the subject, if only slightly.

“Yes. And I imagine painful. It is a psionic blast. Basically, once you establish a connection to the vampire you can cause pain, memory loss, lack of consciousness, a vegetative state or in extreme cases, death. Do you think you can duplicate that action?”

“Do you trust me enough to try?” John shot back.

Liam smiled and took a sip of his drink.

 

“How many council members are there left?” John said changing the subject again.

“Well, Mycroft is the acting head of the council. The true head is the original vampire. But since he hasn’t been seen, yada, yada, ya. Then there is Rayne, Ephraim,whom you've met. Eka, she is from Indonesia, Jacques, he’s from Haiti and a Shaman. Then there is Otaktay, he is an American Indian from the Lakota tribe and a skinwalker. He is also the only member on the council who is not a Vampire.”

“Skinwalker?” John interrupted.

“Yes someone who can turn into an animal. I think he also use to be a medicine man for his tribe. Anyways, let’s see. Oh! Delma, Mansi and Luisa are the remaining women on the council. Delma is one of my favorite. She is German and was turned during the Holocaust. She is an avid advocate of human rights. She is a force to be reckoned with but such a sweetheart. Mansi is from India, she is one of the youngest turned vampires in existence.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that most people turned before adulthood usually go mad and have to be put down. Mansi was turned at 16. She adapted...well. And Luisa. She is from Mexico, there are some rumors that she was an Aztec princess in her human life. Beautiful woman, what I wouldn’t give to have her hair.”

“That’s it? There were twelve total?”

“No, thirteen. Who am I forgetting?” Liam tapped his hand on the table as he thought. “Oh yea, Lachlan, an Australian bloke. I don’t like him much. Gorgeous, but very cocky.”

 

John sighed heavily. “So, in essence there are now only eleven left. Nine of them I can count on gunning for me.”

“Or testing you at the very least.” Liam added.

 

The men sat in compaionable silence. Several moments pass when an explosion rocked the house throwing the men from their seats.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Liam asked as he stood up; extending a hand he helped John up as well. “Are you okay love?”

“Yes, but we have to contact Sherlock, make sure he wasn’t involved with whatever _that_ was.”

John hurriedly took out his mobile phone to call Sherlock. When the other man picked up John immediately started speaking. “Where are you?”, panic evident in his voice.

“Not far, what’s happened?”

“I think we’re under attack. There was an explosion.”

“Stay in the house! Do not go out for any reason and keep the doors locked.”

“They have explosives Sherlock, I don’t think locks will be a problem for them.” John heard Sherlock curse under his breath.

“I will be there. Stay put.” The line went dead.

John hung up the phone and shoved it in his back pocket. He looked at Liam, he didn’t look worried. “Why are you so calm?”

“Cause doll face, I got you on my side.”

“But they could be humans, I don't sense vampiric powers. They feel hazy to me.”

That’s because they are Moriarty’s men. They’re cloaked in fae magic. I really need to show you how to detect it.”

Another explosion rent the air, shaking the house again. The men fell against each other, just barely keeping their balance.

 

“JUDGE! COME OUT! WE CHALLENGE YOU!”

 

John looked to Liam again, “What do I do? Sherlock told me to stay inside.”  

“Because he was worried for you. You haven't gone into judge mode; _if_ you go out there, it will be you. Your decisions, your actions. I’ll be beside you of course, _if_ that is what you decide.”

John stared Liam in the eyes as he thought about what his next move should be. If he stayed inside he would seem incompetent and people wouldn’t believe his accomplishments. Which personally, he wasn’t that concerned with, but he knew he ought to be for prophecy sake. Or something or another. He gave a single nod to Liam. “Let’s do this. But, if there are only a couple let me try and do this on my own.”

“You got it boo. I believe in you.”

John smiled grimly and headed to the garage and out the door that lead to their backyard. That was where the shouting had seemed to come from, as well as the explosions.

 

When John opened the door he had to shield his eyes from the brightness of the roaring fire. He was dismayed to see his training room was engulfed in flames and crumbling. How in the world had they achieved that?

When his eyes adjusted to the scene he saw there wasn’t a couple of vampires out there. There was about two dozen. He swallowed hard. _Um, so you got my back right?_ He thought at Liam.

_Of course love. I suggest we ta-_

 

Liam was cut off by John shooting several blast of fire at the thickest part of the crowd.

 _Okay then._ Liam thought as he rushed a vampire, wrapping his hands around the base of his head and yanked, separating head from body. Spinning with the same momentum he thrust his hand through the chest of the vampire approaching from behind. He ripped out his heart and threw it into the fire.

He looked for John, he saw several piles of bodies burning brightly on the ground.

The remaining vampires, a group of about ten or so stood in a loose circle. He started towards them, fearing John would be in the middle. A vampire rushed at him from the left, he flung out his hand, and sent the vampire soaring through the air, landing in a tree, and impaled on a limb. That wouldn't kill the vampire, he'd have to take care of him later.

Reaching the circle Liam stood between two vampires who didn't’ even seem to notice him.

John was fighting hand to hand with a baby vamp. John was holding his own for now, probably courtesy of military training. But even a baby vamp was far stronger than a human. John kicked out at the vampire snapping his leg in two. John took advantage of the vampire being down and was stepping away when the vampire grabbed him by an ankle pulling the leg towards his mouth.

Liam was about to step in to help when one of the vampire’s standing in the circle hit John with a wave of power so hard it knocked him off his feet and he landed several yards away on his back. Unmoving. Liam ripped the hearts out of the two vampires closest to him and dropping them on the ground and stomping on them.

He felt pressure building in the air, council level vampires were approaching. He looked around wildly, they wouldn’t know he was helping John, in fact, they shouldn't know, they might kill him thinking he was fighting against John. There was still roughly about ten or so vampires alive. He and John had made quite the impressive dent in their numbers. Surprisingly enough, John had took out the most. Liam could only claim four.

Three women appeared in the night sky, hovering about the scene. One of the women blew fire out of her mouth and created a ring of fire around the remaining vamps and John, presumably to keep anyone from leaving.

One of the women threw a fan at the vampire Liam had trapped in the tree. The fan sliced right through the vampire's neck and came back to the woman as his head toppled to the ground below. The third woman landed, pulling two broadswords from sheaths on her back.

Liam turned to a vampire intent on stopping him from trying to escape when he heard laughter. Everyone froze turning to the source. John was standing up laughing hysterically. He had a slight glow to him. He threw out both his hands and the remaining vampires were caught in the same slight glow as John, they struggled in his unseen grasp. Liam watched with apprehension as John closed both his fist. The vampires all shook as if they were simultaneously having seizures, and when John opened his fist, they exploded. Liam threw up his arm to block the gore from hitting him in the face.

John lowered his hands and the glow faded.

 

The woman who blew the fire out of her mouth landed beside John. Liam jogged over to them, he would have to explain how he knew John, but it was better than getting killed. “John, this is Mansi. And this lovely lady is Delma.” Liam announced as Delma walked over returning her swords to her sheaths. He looked up waiting for the third woman to land. She hovered there staring down. “Delma love, why is Eka joining us?”

“I have an ideal why.” she said in a thick German accent.

 

John looked up at Eka, their eyes locked and John’s eyes bled into white.

“Well shit.” Liam cursed under his breath. “This is moving faster than I thought it would have.” he muttered.

John held eye contact with Eka as he forced her to land. “You have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death. Would you like to plead your case?”

“What crimes have I committed? I have committed none.”

“Genocide. Human trafficking. Murder for profit. Shall I go on?”

Liam frowned, this sounded more like John than the judge power speaking.

“Can you prove I have committed any of these crimes? Eka spat out.

 

Sherlock landed next to John. He took in the surroundings. The training room was still engulfed in flames as well as what looked to be piles of bodies. There was gore splattered all over the place as well as bodies with missing heads, it looked as though he had missed quite a fight.

Mansi and Delma was here, he was guessing they weren’t apart of the problem, but apparently Eka was. And Liam was frowning at John, he wondered what was wrong, why Liam was staring at John in such a manner.

 

John reached out a hand and touched Sherlock. Sherlock’s head fell back as he was bombarded with images of Eka’s crimes.

“He is biased. You two are lovers. Eka argued, smiling. John looked at Delma and Mansi, they both walked forward. He touched Mansi who was closer and she touched Delma, both of their heads fell back as well as they were assaulted with the proof of Eka's crimes. Mansi was crying and Delma balled up her fist in anger. John snapped his fingers and the images stopped.

Delma started for Eka, Sherlock and Liam grabbed her, holding her back, but just barely. “You will get what you deserve _sister_.” Delma sneered at Eka. Mansi turned to the vampire on trial, blood red tears still streaming down her face, “Why? Why would you betray all of us? How could you commit such crimes? Moriarty?! How could you work with him?” Mansi fired question after question at Eka, her voice growing stronger with each one.

 

John looked back to Eka himself. “You have been judged by myself and a group of your peers; you’ve been found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death.” Eka caught fire. She didn’t beg, cry out, or make a sound. She stood silently as she burned to death. The group watched as the woman burned each with their own thoughts running through their minds.

When it was over and John extinguished the flames; all that was left was a pile of ash.

 

John’s eyes changed back to his normal color. He turned and looked at the training room and with a flick of his wrist the fire died out, along with each body that had been burning. He turned to Sherlock, falling into him, Sherlock wrapped his arms around him tightly.

John was emotionally shot. He didn’t feel weak like every other time up to now that he had judged. His heart hurt. Dealing with Baxter and Ellanora and now Eka.

Eka had been over a thousand years old. She had committed many atrocities against humanity while human. And later in her undead life she committed more and also committed them against other vampires. She had intended to help Moriarty take out the council while he built an army. Moriarty wanted to take out at least half of the world's vampire population and with what was left mount an attack on humans.

He hated that he had shown Eka's crimes to Mansi and Delma, they had lived through some of those moments, never knowing Eka had participated in them. Or in some cases, the mastermind behind them. Taking a deep breath John extracted himself from Sherlock’s comforting embrace, he faced the council members. “I am deeply sorry that I had to show you that. And...that we didn't meet under better circumstances.”

 

Delma approached him and to John’s surprise she pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t you worry. I don’t blame you. I blame Eka.” Delma said as she released him.

Sherlock spoke up, “If you do not mind me asking, why were you three here?”

“All of the council members will come meet John at some point in the near future. We all wish to meet the new judge.”

“What I can’t understand,” Mansi interrupted, sniffling away the last of her tears, “Eka knew she was committing these crimes. Why would she come with us? She knew the purpose of us coming here.”

“She didn’t quite believe that I am a judge. Part of her thought maybe Ephraim and Rayne had killed Ellanora and Baxter. Annnd she also felt her cleverness with hiding all her actions would keep me from being able to judge her.”

“Let’s go inside and finish talking, it smells to high heaven out here.” Liam said.

 

The five of them made their way to the backdoor leading into the garage. John and Sherlock entered. “Will you all please come in on your volition?” Sherlock extended the invitation.

 

Delma and Mansi entered first, followed by Liam. When they all reached the sitting room they were surprised to see Mycroft sitting in Sherlock’s leather chair and Rayne sitting on the couch.

“Bloody hell. What now?” John shouted, clearly frustrated.

Delma and Mansi sat down flanking Rayne on the couch. Sherlock walked to John’s chair and actually curled his lip up at it. “Mycroft, do you mind, you’re in my seat.” Mycroft simply smiled, not moving from the chair. Sighing dramatically Sherlock fell into John’s seat, pouting.

John paced back and forth behind the seat while Liam hung back in the doorway.

“Well madam? To what do we owe the pleasure and so soon after the last time?”

Rayne announced, “We need to talk strategy Sherlock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 51,000 words! My longest yet. And I'm not done...we haven't heard from Mr. Creepshow himself in a while. And I'm sure he won't take kindly to two dozen of his goons dying.
> 
> Woot woot! 51,000 words...


	21. Dreamwalker

John stopped pacing. Bracing both hands on the back of the seat Sherlock was sitting in. “Strategy?” John questioned.  
“Yes dear. Since you are the new judge and Sherlock your handler, we need to discuss strategy in dealing with rouge vampires. We have had an increase in crimes that left unchecked would bring attention to our race and we can’t have that.” Rayne explained.   
  
“Handler?” John asked quietly.  
  
“Where is Luisa?” Rayne asked turning to Mansi and ignoring John.  
Sherlock patted John’s hands.  
  
“She went to retrieve Otaktay from America.” Mansi answered.   
  
“So only Eka has perished?”  
  
“Yes. Only the three of us came tonight. Well, besides the four of you earlier.” Delma responded.  
  
“I can’t believe we are down 3 council members in less than 24 hours.” Mansi said absently.  
  
John straightened, falling into military stance, something he often did when he was feeling defensive.   
  
“Calm yourself John, no one is blaming you. The timing couldn’t be more perfect with an uprising on our hands and all.” Mycroft spoke up for the first time. He held out his hand and beckoned Liam over to him.   
  
Liam approached with apprehension, not because he feared Mycroft, but because he knew Mycroft wanted no one to know about them or their connection to John and Sherlock. When Liam reached Mycroft's side he kneeled. “Yes sire?”   
Mycroft placed his fingertips on either side of Liam's temples, he closed his eyes and after a few moments he opened his eyes and stared at John. Taking his fingers away from Liam’s head he flicked his hand dismissively at Liam, keeping eye contact with John.  
  
John held Mycroft’s eye contact, he refused to be cowed in his own home.   
  
“You’re learning to control your power. And you’ve gained a new ability.” Mycroft stated.  
  
“What did she mean by handler?” John asked.  
Mycroft sighed. "Like a dog with a bone." he muttered before going on to answer John's question. "Rayne is very old, she sometimes forgets what it means to be human. She simply believes any humans brought into our fold must have a master or handler of sorts. I am happy to inform her that you do not need a handler and that you and Sherlock keep each other in check and accountable.”  
  
  
John walked around the chair and perched on a corner of the cushion causing Sherlock to have to scoot over just a bit so he could sit comfortably. “Sherlock told me that you, Mycroft,  was currently the oldest living vampire known.”  
“This is true.” Mycroft answered.  
“Either you are lying, or you don’t know that you are not the oldest living vampire.”  
“Whatever do you mean John.” Mycroft asked, his smile looking very forced now.  
“Eka, she was around 1,100 years old. And Rayne,” John looked to her, “No disrespect madam, but she is around 1,000 years old too.”  
“As am I. I am sure you are mistaken about Eka.”  
“No. I get a rough estimation of age now, maybe I did before and didn't realize it. But when I come face to face with a vampire it seems as if the judge in me glances over the vampire, taking in their life and if they have committed unspeakable crimes they get judged as you know. But those of you who turned away from such acts, or who have never committed such acts I get a summation of your lives, age approximation included. Mycroft you are closer to 900 years old whereas Rayne is closer to 1000 if not 1000.” Mycroft looked to Rayne for confirmation.   
  
“He is correct Mycroft.”  
  
“Then you alone should be heading the council.”  
  
“Have we not shared responsibility? Besides neither of us will head or lead the council much longer.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Don’t play dumb Mycroft. I’ve known about the prophecy longer than you. Longer than your pet druid - fae half breed.”  
  
Mycroft visibly bristled at her calling Liam his pet and a half breed.  
  
“Furthermore, I know and have always know Sherlock and you are of the same bloodline that descends from the first vampire. Your bloodline will go on forever. Just as John’s will.”  
  
“I don’t understand.” Sherlock spoke up. “How can our bloodline continue? I had no siblings or children. And to my knowledge neither did my parents have siblings.”   
  
Rayne smiled. “You had a sister. Your father was married before he met your mother and had you. Her line continues, each generation has at least one son to carry the name. But the bloodline and lineage is spreading. Every year one of your bloodline is turned either into a vampire or a lycanthrope. Your bloodline has mixed many times over. You can go to almost any country in the world and find one of your line.”  
  
Mycroft and John both seemed shaken by this news. John placed a comforting hand on Sherlock’s knee.  
  
  
“Okay, so can we get to the meat and potatoes of why you’re here.” John asked.  
“Simple really. I already know which of the council members will fall. I also know who will make up part of the new council. I-”  
  
“Wait, if you know which of us will fall, why did you ask if Luisa had perished? Is she one?” Delma interrupted, clearly worried.  
  
“No sweet Delma. But I sometimes get it wrong, I was concerned for her safety.” Rayne answered.  
“As I was explaining, I have the gift of sight, amongst other things. And things have shifted from the original prophecy.”  
  
Liam stepped forward “How so?”  
  
“Well little one, originally it was foretold that if John embraced his powers and began using them we would be spared the war. That is not true anymore. Moriarty has been building his army and it grows rapidly. He isn’t only recruiting rogue vampires as previously foretold. He is also recruiting lycanthropes, the dark far and humans. Fanatics that feel vampires are a threat to their way of life. War is coming, and it is standing at our doorstep.”  
John cursed under his breath. “I believe that is why your abilities are progressing so quickly to get you prepared for the war.”  
  
“Okay, so will any other judges get their abilities jump started so that they can help with this war?” John asked hopeful.  
  
“I do not know.”  


  
“All right strategy.” Sherlock piped up.  
  
“Liam will need to recruit the light fae.” Rayne stated.  
  
“What! Uh un darling. I am not allowed contact with them. They consider me dark fae because of my vampire blood. I was told if I ever show my gorgeous face around there again I would become a beautiful tapestry hanging in the king's throne room. I rather like living, so you'll have to find another liaison.”  
  
“It is your job. You will succeed. Mycroft you will need to speak to some of the lycanthropes. I know you have connections. And John, I need you to recruit vampire hunters. We need to start building our own army.”  
  
“Um, excuse me. Where exactly am I supposed to find vampire hunters?”  
  
“You were friends with the head of the London chapter.”  
  
John blinked his eyes several times before responding, “Who exactly? I’ve never been known to have many friends.”  
  
“Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.” Rayne answered.  
  
John laughed. “Riiight. I would believe Anderson was a vampire hunter before I’d believe Lestrade is.”  
  
“He is. Contact him. Ask for his help.”   
  
John rubbed a hand over his face, he was having a hard time taking all of this in. He was beyond ready for this day to end.  
  
“We’ll leave. But we will be back tomorrow night.” Rayne announced as she, Delma and Mansi stood up. Turning to Mycroft she said, “Word of advice, keep a close eye on your pet, Moriarty’s has developed a taste for him.” With that the 3 women strode out of the front door.   
  
  
Mycroft stared out into nothing looking stricken.“What a fucking mess.” John exclaimed.   
  
  
Liam took Mycroft’s hand and pulled. When Mycroft was on his feet Liam announced they were leaving and would be back tomorrow night as well. They vanished into thin air.   
  
  
John stood up and turned and pulled Sherlock up with him. “The night started off so well. How did it go to hell so quickly?” John locked the front door and went back to the door off the kitchen that led to the garage making sure it too was locked. “I’m going to jump in the shower Sherlock clean parts of this night off me.” John disappeared into Sherlock’s room to shower.   
  
  
Sherlock stood in the middle of his sitting room contemplating everything he learned tonight. The biggest bomb being that he had family out there. He’d had a sister he had never known about.  
  
Turning out the lights he made his way to his room, changing into some pyjamas and climbing into bed to wait on John.   
  
What was his role in this? Rayne didn’t give him a task. What was it he needed to do to help? He was still thinking over this when John exited the bathroom, damp hair and shirtless.   
  
John turned out the lights and climbed into the bed. He pulled Sherlock down and into his arms. He held the vampire sensing he needed it. John hummed while he lay there waiting for sleep to take him. Before long both he and Sherlock was asleep.   
  
  
John woke up first, which never really happened. He took advantage and stared at his lover. Sherlock’s perfect cupid bow lips were pulled down in a slight frown. John wondered what could have the vampire frowning so. He smoothed back the curls from his forehead. Normally touching him in any way would wake him up, but Sherlock didn’t stir.   
  
John heard a noise, looking up there was a man standing in their room’s doorway. John scrambled out of the bed and after the man when he walked off. _How in the world had someone gotten in? And who had turned all the lights back on?_  
  
Rushing out to the sitting room where John saw him disappear to John stopped short. In there were two men. One Native American, he was dressed in traditional Native American gear, John assumed this was Otaktay. And the other man, a black man, he was wearing a long tunic that reached the floor, it was brown in color, and looked like leather, it was painted in swirling designs and symbols. These were done in a reddish brown color. In the back of his mind he thought it looked a lot like dried blood.   
  
If the first man was Otaktay, it would be safe to assume this was the Haitian Jacques, since the council seemed to travel in pairs, or the very least not alone. How had they gotten in? Neither he nor Sherlock had given them an invite to enter.   
  
“Um hello. I’m John Watson, and you are in my home. Do you mind telling me how you two got in?” 

Jacques the Shaman started chanting. John felt his throat closing up and he could not breath. He grasped the wall with one hand as the other gripped at his neck. In his mind he heard an unknown voice, it was heavy with an accent.  _ You must fight him. He is a very bad man. I followed him into your dream. He is here to kill you since it is rumored that is the only way to kill a judge.  _

John looked at Native American. _Dream?_ _He was dreaming?_

_ Yes little brother, now fight before you die! _

John struggled to stand upright, his face was bright red and veins were protruding on his forehead and neck from the lack of oxygen, his eyes watered. John stared at the Shaman. He just couldn’t catch a break, even in his sleep. It pissed him off. 

John used his telekinesis to lift a lamp from behind Jacques and slam it into the back of his head. The invisible grip around his neck loosened up and he fired a bolt of fire at the Shaman. Nothing happened.  _ What on earth? _ John tried again with the same outcome. He tried catching Jacques' gaze to try the psionic blast , but the shaman kept averting his eyes. 

The men circled each other. John launched himself at the other man and tackled the Shaman, as soon as he hit the ground John began punching him. 

The shaman kept his eyes closed. John punched him in the face, in the stomach and as he was pulling his arm back to punch him again the shaman mumbled something and blew a powder substance in his face. John began having a coughing fit. It felt like the powder had settled in his lungs and absorbed every bit of moisture. And it burned. 

Jacques made no attempt to get up from underneath John, belatedly John realized he was mumbling again. He couldn’t see and his throat was so dry he felt like he was choking all over again. He knew the shaman not making an attempt to get up was a bad sign especially coupled with the mumbled chanting. 

John reached out blindly and got his hands around Jacques' throat. He felt physically too weak to apply pressure. So decided to try something new. Instead of pushing his power into the vampire like he had done Sherlock, he tried pushing his fire into the fiend. 

At first nothing happened, John’s hands felt hot but that was all. Jacques’ chanting became more hurried. John pushed harder and suddenly the chanting stopped and the man beneath him screamed. John’s hands felt like they were burning from the inside out. And that is what he did to Jacques. He pushed his fire into the other man, from his fingertips into the skin and beyond of the other man. John kept pushing, mentally stroking the fire higher and hotter. His whole body felt hot where it touched Jacques and the vampire was no longer screaming but he continued to struggle to get John off of him and escape. 

Soon there was no struggle and John fell to the floor in a pile of ash. 

 

John struggled to his feet coughing and gagging. He still felt like he couldn’t breath nor see. He felt Otaktay approach him on his left. 

_ Very good little brother. When you wake up you will need to heal. I can’t heal you here because I have used too much energy tracking the Shaman and getting to you. I am sorry; but you have the power to heal yourself. Now, wake up! _

 

John bolted up in bed. Doing so woke Sherlock up. He looked around, blinked his eyes several times. He couldn’t see a thing.


	22. Done

“FUCKING SHITE! BLOODY UNBELIEVABLE. I AM SO FUCKING DONE!”

“John! John, what’s wrong?” Sherlock had his arms around John, normally he would turn and look at him or embrace him, John was doing neither; he was staring straight ahead but had his head cocked to the side. Sherlock was concerned, what on earth could have had John pop up out of sleep in a fit like this? “John, love, talk to me what’s wrong?”

John turned his head to where he thought Sherlock’s face would be. He rubbed a hand roughly over his face and said quietly, “I can’t see Sherlock.”

Sherlock’s mouth dropped open. He looked closely at John’s face he was staring straight ahead in the same fashion you often see blind people do. “What...happened? Is it from the fight earlier?”

“BLOODY FUCKING…! Sorry, sorry. It’s not your fault, I needn't yell at you.” John took a moment to try and calm himself. It really wasn’t Sherlock’s fault and he had no clue about what had just gone down in John’s dream. John was still gagging from the dryness in his mouth and throat, it was hard to talk, but his anger helped him push through. Taking a deep breath he started again. “I was sleeping and then I thought I had woken up. There was a man standing in our doorway and I got out of bed and followed him to the sitting room. In the sitting room was another man. Turns out, the man that was standing in the doorway was Otaktay and the other man waiting was FUCKING...sorry. The other man waiting was Jacques.” John stopped to swallow several times.

“What? You didn’t wake me up?”

“You wouldn’t wake up. Besides, turns out I was still asleep. Otaktay followed Jacques into my dream. Jacques meant to kill me. Otaktay said there is a rumor that a judge can only be killed in their sleep so Jacques was gonna give it a try. Anyways, Jacques and I fought; I ended up killing him, but not before he blew something in my face that had me feeling like I have an extreme case of cotton mouth. My throat is dry, I keep gagging and whatever it was got in my eyes and now I can’t see. Otaktay said he didn’ have enough energy to heal me but that I could heal myself. How the FUCK am I supposed to heal myself? Hmm?”

 

Sherlock pressed on John’s chest laying him back down. “I don’t know. But Otaktay saved you from being murdered in your sleep, at least give it a try. I believe in you. You’ve done so many incredible things lately. What I can’t believe is that you’ve chosen me to love.” Sherlock bent his head down and kissed John slowly, knowing it would help calm him down.

Pulling away Sherlock looked down at John. “Okay, now let’s give it a go. Concentrate on what needs to be healed, you’re a doctor, maybe, if you picture yourself fixing it as you would if you were dealing with a patient?” Sherlock suggested.

“That sounds like a good idea, thank you Sherlock.”

John closed his eyes and held his hand out, Sherlock laid his hand in John’s. He would give him all the support he needed and more.

 

John squeezed Sherlock’s hand, it helped him to focus. He took several deep breaths and then promptly started gagging again. John pictured himself scrapping the foreign substance from his throat, and then cleaning it and putting antibiotics on the abused tissue. He pictured himself doing the same thing for his eyes. He cleaned them and then used special antibiotic eye drops to take away the infection.

John lay still while he breathed slowly, taking careful notice of his body. The dryness in his mouth and throat was slowly dissipating, he no longer felt like gagging repeatedly. The burning sensation was gone as well.

 

Sherlock waited with baited breath. Did it work? How would John be able to be a judge if he was permanently blind. Sherlock let his thoughts stray to turning John again. If he turned him, he would get his sight back. Sherlock didn’t realize he was squeezing John’s hand until the other man spoke up.

“Sherlock, it’ll be fine, but you’re hurting my hand.”

Embarrassed Sherlock tried to let go of John’s hand, but John wouldn’t relinquish _his_ hold. “It’s okay. Just, hold my hand a little while longer. Please.”

Sherlock sighed, willing himself to relax.

 

John waited and waited, extremely nervous but he didn’t want to agitate Sherlock further. Sherlock was probably more nervous than he was. After about 20 minutes John began getting sleepy again. He couldn’t go to sleep without knowing if it worked or not. He sat up with his eyes still closed. His throat felt normal. Sherlock was slightly squeezing his hand again, he squeezed back. _Here goes nothing_ he thought and opened his eyes slowly. “Hot damn!” he whooped.

“What? Did it work, can you see?” Sherlock frantically inquired.

John turned towards Sherlock holding his face between his hands. He studied Sherlock's face, letting his smile fall as he kissed Sherlock. John pulled out of the kiss and crushed Sherlock to him in a breath stealing embrace. “Yes. I can see again.” John rained kiss after kiss against Sherlock's neck, shoulder and jaw. When he finally released the vampire he saw Sherlock had teared up at some point. John absently wondered why vampires cried tears of blood. He didn’t comment on it, he simply laid down pulling Sherlock with him.

 

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John. That had been a close call. Even if he had been awake he didn’t think there would have been anything he could’ve done to help John in his dream. Sherlock was becoming increasingly frustrated. What was his bloody purpose if he couldn’t protect John? Liam kept saying he and John was a team but John kept being attacked in situations he had to handle alone.

 

“Shh. Sleep Sherlock. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Don’t worry about anything.” John cajoled, he could feel the worry and fear emanating from Sherlock.

“I think I will stay awake and watch over you. What if Jacques tries again?”

“I’m pretty sure me killing him in my dream killed him in real life. I mean, he harmed me for real in my dream; why wouldn’t it play out both ways?”

“Because you aren’t a shaman.”

“Pssh...I’m better than a shaman.”

“How so?”

“I’m loved. By the most wonderful, bullheaded vampire. That makes me stronger, luckier, and better than any shaman or anyone else out there. Now go to bloody sleep you git.” John kissed the top of Sherlock’s curls as he pulled him in closer. “Goodnight, again Sherlock.”

“Goodnight John.” Sherlock could barely get his words out past the lump in his throat and the smile on his face.

 

John woke up with his head in Sherlock’s lap. The vampire was stroking his hair and humming.

“Can you sing Sherlock?” John asked around a yawn.

“Nope. I can’t carry a tune.”

“But you play the violin beautifully. You’ll have to play it for me again sometime.”

“Anytime. Are you hungry?”

“Always.” John sat up stretching, watching as Sherlock walked around the bed and out the room. John sat there as he contemplated what to do next. He decided to shower, he needed time to think. Scooting out of the bed he headed to the bathroom, starting the shower he stepped in under the spray. John closed his eyes, allowing the water to run down over his head, face and body. He imagined it was washing away the stress of the night; breathing in deeply through his nose and exhaling shallowly through his mouth.

 

He felt a hand on his shoulder, it startled him. Turning around he saw it was just Sherlock. He looked the other man over, he was nude. So much for Sherlock making him breakfast John thought absently. Sherlock picked up the soap and took John’s rag that had been hanging limply from his hand, and proceeded to produce a thick lather. Sherlock washed every inch of John, massaging his muscles as he went. When he was done he directed John under the spray to rinse the soap from his body.

Sherlock lathered the rag again and began to wash himself. “I came back to see if you wanted an omelette with all the trimmings or the whole breakfast spread. When I heard the water, I figured I’d join you.” Sherlock answered John’s unanswered question. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get your breakfast.”

John smiled widely at Sherlock’s comment. Sometimes he swore Sherlock himself was psychic. He leaned back against the wall and watched Sherlock as he quickly and efficiently washed himself. He wondered if Sherlock could tell what he was thinking at this moment. He knew he didn’t have to worry about leaking his thoughts to the other man because shielding had become second nature to him. Even when he was distressed.

Sherlock stepped up next to John and rinsed. When he turned so he could rinse his back John grabbed him by the neck and kissed him. He loved Sherlock’s lips and as always he had to run his tongue over them, relishing the feel and shape of them. Sherlock moaned and John pressed closer sliding his tongue into Sherlock’s waiting mouth.

John felt himself stir. How could he possibly want Sherlock again? It had been less than 24 hours since they had been together. Although, John would admit it seemed like days had passed.

 

Sherlock placed his hands on John’s hips, gripping, grinding against him. With a simple kiss John had him hard and ready to throw him against the wall. But John was calling the shots so he would play by his rules and take his lead. He could be patient.

John broke away from the kiss, he looked up at Sherlock and saw the same need as well as affection reflected in his eyes. John placed a kiss against Sherlock’s chin and trailed more along his jaw and down his neck. He paused to run his teeth over the sensitive skin there, drawing a deep moan from Sherlock. John continued his  kissing across Sherlock’s shoulders and down to his chest, drawing a nipple into his mouth. He rolled it between his lips before flicking his tongue over it, biting down gently and tugging lightly with his teeth.

“Ahh...John!”

John repeated the slow torture on Sherlock’s other nipple. He kissed down the center of Sherlock's chest, kneeling as he made his way down.

John placed a kiss against Sherlock’s hip, darting out his tongue and drawing lazy circles from hip to pelvis. Sherlock had a hand buried in John’s short hair.

At the first feel of John’s mouth on his cock Sherlock’s hand tightened in John’s hair and he let out a groan so low and deep John’s own cock jerked in response.

John twirled his tongue around the thick head of Sherlock’s shaft. He looked up at Sherlock, his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth hung open. John took more of Sherlock into his mouth, running his tongue around his length as he did.

 

Suddenly Sherlock reached down and pulled John up by his arm, he flattened himself against John, pushing him into the wall. He crushed his mouth to the shorter man, kissing him roughly; but gently ran his hand down his stomach south, wrapping his fingers around John. He stroked him while he ravished his mouth. He turned his attention to his neck, John was a lot more verbal than Sherlock and his loud moans reverberated off the shower tile. Sherlock was stroking John faster, he could tell he was close. He bit John without breaking the skin. “Fuuuck! Fuuuuuuuck meeee….ahhh...Sherlock...fu-” John was coming all over them.

Sherlock kissed John through his orgasam, successfully silencing his barrage of foul language.

He pulled John’s leg up and pressed two fingers to John’s entrance, rubbing slowly working his fingers slowly in. He continued kissing John, alternating between John's mouth and neck, pressing his own erection against John’s stomach. Christ he needed to be inside him, Sherlock was feeling desperate.

 

John grasped Sherlock’s shoulders, “I’m ready.” John said breathlessly.

Sherlock pulled John's other leg up and positioned himself, staring John in the eyes he pushed in slowly, allowing John to slide down and settle in his grasp.

Sherlock rested his head against the tile trying to gain a bit of control. John rocked his hips forward moaning. Still Sherlock didn’t move. John did the motion again and dug his heels into the back of Sherlock’s thighs.

Sherlock growled in John’s ear and thrust up hard. “Sherlock...move.” John instructed.

Sherlock started a steady pace of deep ins and outs with John clinging to him, moaning loud, saying his name and his usual profanity. Sherlock was extremely turned on. He increase his pace, burying himself to the hilt repeatedly. John cried out loudly; the sound of wet skin hitting wet skin was the chorus to John's loud moans and Sherlock low groans.

 

_Thump! Thump! Thump!_

Someone was banging on the bathroom door. Sherlock growled.  _Who and what the fuck._

“Come on you two; you don't have time for that. You have company, and I don’t mean me.” Liam yelled through the door.”

 

“Fuck that. Don’t you stop.” John whispered.

Sherlock shook with the effort to keep from going.

“I mean it Sherlock, don’t you dare stop. They have controlled my life and made it hell for the last couple of days. Keep. Going.” John demanded.

 

Sherlock kissed John hard and resumed his thrusting.

John tried to be quieter, knowing they now had an audience. But it was difficult Sherlock was sliding against his prostate with every thrust and his on erection was caught between their bodies and he was threatenly close to coming again. “Fuck! Sherlock. Fuck!” John hissed harshly. “I’m going to come again.”

Sherlock bit John on the shoulder. Again he made sure not to break the skin. John cried out and Sherlock hurriedly kissed him, swallowing down his cries of pleasure as he too started to come.

 

Gently Sherlock pulled out of John allowing him to stand up. John leaned against Sherlock while he tried to catch his breath. The water had grown cold and felt great on their heated skin. Sherlock quickly washed John and himself again. He exited the bathroom first to be sure that Liam hadn’t invited anyone into their actual room. Or that Liam himself wasn’t in there. If he was and he saw John, he’d have John burn his eyeballs out. John began laughing. “Coast is clear." Sherlock announced. "Why are you laughing?”

“You feel pretty strongly about that huh? I’m not going to burn Liam’s eyeballs out Sherlock.”

“You should. That is if he sees you naked. You'd be doing it for me of course.”

Laughing again John began getting dressed. “That’s absurd Sherlock.”

“They would grow back.” Sherlock pleaded his case.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He didn’t see me _or_ you naked. So the point is moot.”

Sherlock had finished pulling on his clothes but refused to put on shoes or socks. “True. But keep that in mind for him, just in case.”

John finished tying his shoes and stood up, pulling Sherlock down into a slow kiss. “Stop worrying.”

 

Sherlock and John walked out into the sitting room. The remaining council members were all seated around, some standing.

“Rather rude of you two, don’t you think?” Mycroft berated when he saw them enter. John began to speak when a very beautiful woman spoke up first.

“If what I have heard about him and the last 24-48 hours is true, he deserved that hero's welcome.” Her accent was very strong, she approached John extending a perfectly manicured hand, “Hola, I am Luisa. It is a pleasure to finally meet you Sénor Watson.” John shook her hand gently. “Hola to you too Sénor Holmes.”

“Pleasure.” Sherlock took her hand and bowed over it.

Next Otaktay approached the duo. He held a closed fist over his heart. “Happy to be able to meet you in the flesh little brother.” Instinctively John repeated the gesture. To Sherlock, Otaktay shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Mr. Holmes.”

“Likewise.” Sherlock responded shaking Otaktay’s hand a tad bit harder than called for. Otaktay smiled good naturedly and stepped back wrapping his arm around Luisa’s waist. Sherlock got the message and had the good grace to look contrite.

John glared at Rayne and Mycroft who were seated next to one another. “Why are you all here so bloody early?” He asked walking into the kitchen not waiting for a response. Sherlock walked in behind him and started pulling out stuff to make John his breakfast.

John placed a restraining hand on Sherlock’s arm to keep him from reaching for another pan. He placed a quick kiss against his lips. “I’ll just grab some oatmeal. We do have company and all.”

“Crikey. You too are all lovey dovey like a couple of newlyweds.” John and Sherlock turned to look at the speaker.

“Excuse me, and who are you?” Sherlock asked.

John dropped his hand from Sherlock’s arm. “This is Lachlan Sherlock. He is here to ensure I have an awful day, and after such a good start, pity.”

Sherlock looked puzzled but began making John’s oatmeal for him. “Well, Lachlan, can you perhaps go in the sitting room with the others and maybe postpone John’s bad day by, let’s say another 30 minutes or so.”

Lachlan smiled at Sherlock. “Oh, I like you mate. So protective and edgy.” Lachlan approached the duo and walked a tight half circle around Sherlock stopping at his back. “Will you be joining us or will you be staying in here to babysit the human?” Lachlan ran a finger down Sherlock’s arm, dropping his head as if to kiss his shoulder.

“How about _his_ eyes, and hands?” Sherlock questioned raising his eyebrow at John.

John smiled and said, “Nah. I have something special planned for him.”

 


	23. Chapter 23

“No. Seriously, get lost Lachlan.” John said

“Sherlock, a human? What could he possibly do that a vampire like myself can’t?”

Sherlock turned so his back was against John’s front and he was facing Lachlan. “Well you heard us, use your imagination.”

“How about I don’t and you show me instead.”

 

John was growing increasingly angry. He was trying to keep his cool. He didn’t want what he had to do later to be seen as he'd done it out of pettiness or revenge.

 

“Lachlan! Stop behaving like a child. Go sit down in there with the rest of the council.” Mycroft fussed from the doorway. Lachlan ran his finger down Sherlock’s cheek and walked away grinning. When he was passing Mycroft he snapped his teeth at him.

“Hurry up and eat your breakfast so that we may continue our discussions from last night.” Mycroft turned and left the kitchen.

 

Sherlock was pouring the oatmeal into a bowl when Liam walked in. John groaned in annoyance.

“Sorry. They had sent me in there to get you. I would never interrupt the private time between the two of you.” Liam paused, “But, I must say, with the way John was carrying on, I was tempted to stick my head in that bathroom and see what the fuss was all about.”

Sherlock’s head snapped around to look at John pointedly. “His _eyes_ John.”

 

John chuckled and continued to eat his oatmeal. Liam sat down, resting his chin in his folded hands. “So, Otaktay is good, obviously right?”

John sighed. “Right. As is Luisa.”

Liam's eyes got huge with the implication of what wasn't said. _But not Lachlan?_ He thought at John and Sherlock. John shook his head no.

“But how…” _Are you not in there judging him?_ Liam asked.

“Every time I use the power I seem to gain better control over it. Except I can't use it in my dreams.”

 

Sherlock looked at Liam, he sat back in his seat, resting his arm over the back of the chair. “Why are the council members here? And as John said, so early? It’s been a mere 12 hours since they left last night. And that doesn’t include John’s visit in his dream.”

 

“I would apologize for showing up like this, but I am not in the least bit sorry. And I would rather discuss the reason I called us back here so soon when we are all together, not separated into two rooms. Not everyone knows why I called.” Rayne explained from the doorway. She was wearing form fitting jeans with a short blazer, and nothing beneath. Both jeans and blazer were black. She had accessorized with white pumps, white pearl earrings and a white pearl choker.

If Sherlock was into women Rayne and he would make a gorgeous couple. Both were incredibly good looking and planned their outfits down to the t.

“Why do you all keep meeting here?” John asked.

“Would you rather us call you out of your bed and house and to locations unknown, that you couldn’t possibly hope to reach in short notice thanks to your human state? Or would you rather us come to you in the comfort of your home?”

John absently wondered who’s ideal had this been. Somehow he didn’t think Rayne was that considerate. John reached for his coffee. He hadn’t even noticed when Sherlock sat it there. John had the cup to his lips about to take a sip when not only Sherlock, but also Liam knocked the cup from his grasp. The cup fell and managed to splatter the front of Rayne.

John looked at the two men, “What the actual fuck!?”

“I didn’t make that John. I don’t even know how it got there.”

“Same here babe. There was nothing on the table save for your bowl. And then you had a cup in your hands.”

The trio looked to Rayne the only other person in the room. Lukewarm coffee dripped from her clothes, miraculously her hair, makeup and shoes were untouched.

Sherlock looked her over. “You’ll never fit my clothes. I will grab you something of John’s.”

 

John grabbed Sherlock’s arm as he was about to pass. “Wait.” John rose and went out to the sitting room. Taking a deep breath John walked over to Lachlan who was standing near the fireplace, subsequently he was hitting on Luisa. She and Otaktay both seemed like this was business as usual for Lachlan. When they saw John step up behind Lachlan a ghost of a smile spread across both their faces.

“Lachlan. Did you try to poison me?” John had forgotten all about the fact that vampires couldn’t lie to him, he had been so focused on all of his other abilities coming online.

 

Lachlan looked smug until he actually opened his mouth to speak. “Yes.” He cleared his throat several times.

“And were you hoping to kill me?”

“Of course.” Lachlan was full out frowning.

“I guess no one told you, you can’t lie to the judge. Not so smug now are you.” Luisa goaded in her heavy Latin accent.

 

John cleared his mind and called upon the power of the judges. Some of Lachlan’s deeds had been shown to him earlier when he met him. John wanted to see how long he could resist judging the man, just so he had a point of reference. The fact that he could put it off even for a little amount of time was an accomplishment in itself.

 

“Sherlock, I will need your assistance.” John announced. He knew his eyes were completely white because he could only see Lachlan through a white haze. He was reviewing his past deeds. He wasn’t as awful as some of the others he had judged this past weekend. Lachlan was too selfish and small minded to actually cause much harm but the judge power felt he deserved to be judged. “Lachlan, you have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to _nouveau départ_ , a new start. Would you like to plead your case?”

Even though Lachlan was clearly afraid, he held his head up high and smiled, “Do your worst _judge_.” he sneered the last part like an insult.

 

John hit him with a psionic blast, erasing everything. Lachlan screamed and screamed until the erasure was complete. John stepped back and Sherlock took a step forward.

“You will keep your current name of Lachlan Kelly. You will show defference to human and vampire alike. You will have the utmost respect for all life. Any time you think of doing harm to another living being you will feel physical pain. And your life will be dedicated to the betterment of life for all.” Sherlock finished.

John added a silent compulsion to Sherlock’s, _You came here to offer your services, you were turned down but told if we need you in the near future we would call on you. Go in peace._

 

Lachlan looked around and gave a sad smile. “But you will call if you change your minds?” he asked hopeful.

“Of course.” John answered.

“This really does my heart good to see humans, fae, and vampires working together. Take care, and take care of each other.” Lachlan waved as he left out the front door.

 

Sherlock beamed internally. He finally felt useful. But this couldn’t be his only task in this fight.

 

Every eye turned to John and Sherlock.

“Why did you give Ellanora death for your attempted murder but you let Lachlan off easy. He will never know he was punished he has a completely new life.” Rayne accused sounding angry.

“Essentially Lachlan's life did end. The man he use to be is no more. Isn’t that what death is? And Ellanora plotted my death before even arriving here. Lachlan only tried to kill me to see if he could and because he felt slighted in the kitchen. He didn’t come here with the intention to kill me.” John held up his hand when Delma started to speak. “I know you think murder is murder. But there are different levels to maliciousness. Just as there are different sentences for murder in the human judicial system; his crimes did not warrant a death sentence.” John further explained. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

 

John turned to head back in the kitchen when he collapsed on the floor in an apparent seizure.

Sherlock was by his side in an instant. “John?” Sherlock lifted John’s head into his lap. Liam kneeled next to Sherlock, just as concerned. And a couple of the other council members crowded close. Sherlock was beside himself with concern he didn’t know how to help him.

Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. John’s body went still. Sherlock immediately checked for a pulse, there was one. _Thank goodness._

 

John sat up opening his eyes. They were cloudy white. The eyes of the judge. Standing up he announced, “Now that the council has been cleansed. I will make account of the deeds of the judged ones.” He walked off towards his own room. Sherlock followed closely.

“Go with them.” Mycroft instructed of Liam.

 

Liam followed behind Sherlock and John, not really wanting to intrude on their space, but he was given his orders.

 

In John’s room Sherlock watched as John sat at his desk and pulled out a brand new, leather, hard back journal and a pen. He appeared to be back in automated judge mode, with no control or his actions.

Liam stepped up behind Sherlock and wrapped his arms around him supportively. “I know this is all scary, but he has never gotten hurt while in judge mode before. He’ll be fine.”

Sherlock allowed himself to lean against Liam momentarily. “He hasn’t been okay though Liam. It hasn’t even been seventy-two hours since the first time he’s judged. He’s up, he’s down. He’s weak, he shares my energy. His mental state is shot right now. He has had it up to here with the council and I don’t blame him. I personally feel like they are trying to break him before he really gets involved so they don’t have to give up their precious seats. They have visited here five times in less than twenty-four hours. Do you seriously want me to believe some of these visits couldn’t have waited?”

Liam squeezed Sherlock but didn’t say anything, he was feeling sort of how Sherlock was.

“He may not have been seriously hurt, but there has been some scary close calls. And what is my purpose here Liam? You keep preaching how John and K are a team, and we’re stronger together, but it looks more like he’s Batman and I’m Alfred. It’s stressful.”

“I know boo. I’m sorry you and John are the ones going through this. I really am.”

Sherlock shrugged out of Liam’s embrace and turned to face him. “You know what, that means nothing to me. I’m not John. You can lie to me and mislead me to your heart's content and I would be none the wiser. Please go back in there with them. No, as a matter of fact, I want you all to leave. I rescind my invite, to all of you. Leave.”

 

Liam started crying silently. “Sherlock…”

“LEAVE!”

Sherlock’s power swelled and filled the house, physically pushing the occupants of the house out.

He sat on the bed watching John write furiously for about ten minutes. Sighing Sherlock got up and went to his own room retrieving his journal. He hadn’t wrote in a while.

 

_It’s been a crazy ride. John is more than I could’ve hoped for in, well my life. He is the perfect partner. He compliments me in every way, he makes me a better person. But my poor brave doctor._

_It turns out he is far more special than I originally thought. He is needed by not only me but the world. He is what the old vampires call a judge; a human who is capable of controlling vampires. Well, in a sense. He can punish them and make them accountable for their actions. And in a sense control them. But in order to do this job expected of him he’s had to develop latent abilities. He’s amazing._

_Over the past couple of months he has learned things about himself and this world that would cow lesser men. He’s learned how to harness the abilities given to him by the powers that be. The council has tested him over this past weekend, pushing him to his limit. And he hasn't broke._

_Miraculously John and I have gotten closer than I could’ve imagined. I love him. And even more amazing, he loves me too. Which is why I can’t lose him._

_So anyways, Moriarty is behind a hostile council takeover. And of course the council expects John to stop him. They say me too, but I’ve seen no proof of me being able, or needed to help. John is a force to be reckoned with on his own. He has taken out 4 council level vampires in just under 24 hours. Why on earth would he need me? To pat the sweat from his brow?_

_And I am really starting to dislike Rayne. I always thought she was decent before, now I think she is just a bully in disguise._

_Speaking of bully. I yelled at Liam and kicked him out. I feel a trifle bad about that. I think he is genuinely concerned about John; but I took my anger out on him. I need to apologize._

_This entry is a mess. I am all over the place. Just like my life. Ugh!_

 

Sherlock slammed his journal closed. Looking up, John was still writing so he took out his phone and sent a text to Liam.

**_Sorry. - SH_ **

He waited several minutes before a reply came through.

**_Me too. How is John?_ **

**_The same. - SH_ **

**_You should get some rest. You didn’t get much last night. John will keep. Better for you to be awake and alert when he snaps out of it._ **

**_Probably, but I can’t. - SH_ **

Another text didn’t come through. Sherlock sat his phone to the side. He was restless and tired. Getting up Sherlock checked all of the entrances making sure they were all locked.

Returning back to John’s room, he stood to the side of John and looked over his shoulder at what he was writing. To his surprise he saw that John was writing in Gaelic, and not just Gaelic, it was the primitive, Old Irish form. He knew John wasn’t even alive when that language was spoken.

 

He sat back on the bed and leaned back against the wall. Stifling a yawn Sherlock sat back and waited for John to be finished. Looking at the time it was two in the afternoon on Sunday. It really had been a trying weekend. They had headed out Friday night to practice John's control over his abilities and celebrate. Here it was not even seventy-two hours later and their lives had been turned even more upside down than before. They needed a break. But he doubted Moriarty would give them one.

 

Sherlock blinked his eyes several times. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He saw John still writing at his desk. Checking the time again he saw it was after five now. Sherlock figured he might as well try and get more sleep, who knew how long John would be writing. He'd already been writing nonstop for over three hours.

 

Movement on the bed woke Sherlock up for a second time. He glanced at his phone that he had left on the pillow beside him; incredibly it was now after seven at night. He reached behind him sitting the phone on the side table.

John climbing into the bed bedside him is what had jarred him awake this time. Sherlock pulled the exhausted man in tight against him; John nestled his head against his chest.

They so needed a day off at least. A day to themselves to appreciate the new development in their relationship. Or rather developments. He hadn’t had a chance to ask John about his comment to Rayne. "me and my partner” John had said. What exactly did he mean by partner? Did he mean it in the sense that Sherlock hoped? Gah! He placed a kiss against the top of John’s head. He was already gently snoring. His poor, poor love.


	24. Magic!

John and Sherlock slept the whole night with no interruptions, straight into the morning.

John woke up before Sherlock, instantly put on alert. Was it another vampire or shaman attacking him in his sleep? Sherlock yawned and sat up. John relaxed. “Good morning Sherlock.”

Sherlock smiled warmly at him, but John could feel the worry beating Sherlock down.

“Good morning? God I hope so.” Came Sherlock’s caustic reply.

John slapped him on his arm playfully. “It better be, otherwise I can’t be held accountable for what I may do.”

Sherlock looked at John with something akin to awe in his eyes. “What Sherlock? Something wrong?”

“You’re amazing.”

“I don’t know about that Sherlock. I haven’t been left with much choice in this whole ordeal.”

There are always choices to be had John, don’t downplay yourself.”

John didn’t respond. He gave Sherlock a small nod and then climbed out of the bed. “I need to eat something so I can get to cleaning up the mess in the backyard. Are you going to go feed so you can help me?”

“Last time I left you to feed you made a mess in the backyard.” Sherlock smirked trying to lighten the mood.

John chuckled walking out of the room and into the kitchen. He wasn’t really feeling hungry so he just grabbed a couple pieces of toast.

 

By time Sherlock came into the kitchen fully dressed John had finished his toast and was cleaning up the mess from yesterday afternoon. “Ah so you decided to help me after all.”

“Of course, otherwise you might make an even bigger mess.” Sherlock winked at him.

John cocked his head to the side and squinted at him. “You’ve fed.” John accused. “When did you have time to do that?”

“I didn't go far.”

 

John walked pass Sherlock heading for the backdoor. He had no clue where to even begin with the mess outside.

When he and Sherlock stepped out the door however he was surprised to see there was no mess to clean up. Save for the half burnt down training room. John looked at Sherlock, “Did you do this?”

“No _p_ e.”

“The _council_?”

“That is the logical explanation.”

 

Turning, John balled his fist in the front of Sherlock’s shirt, pulling him against him. “Well, in that case, I suppose we have some time on our hands. Kiss me before all hell breaks loose again.” John joked. Sherlock lowered his mouth to John’s.

“Well aren't you two just adorable?” Came Moriarty's voice.

“Sherlock’s head snapped back up.

“Oh; don’t stop on my account, Sherlock knows I like to watch.”

“DAMMIT ALL TO FUCKING HELL!”

“John, no need to curse. We’re willing to share you.” Moriarty kept speaking in a calm voice as he walked towards the couple.

“CAN I JUST CATCH A FUCKING BREAK? JUST ONE!” John grabbed Sherlock’s hand and dragged him back in the house.

Moriarty entered right behind them. “The house seems a bit stuffy. Maybe you should air it out.” Moriarty complained looking around like he was seeing the house anew.

 

“How is he able to come in without an invite Sherlock? Why haven't you rescinded _his_ invite?”

Sherlock looked away sheepishly. “I can’t. We built this house together. It’s his house as much as mine by the rules of the universe. Believe me, I've tried.”

John cursed loudly and stomped off to _his_ room.

 

“Looks like your human has quite the temper Sherlock. Looks like I dodged a bullet there. You know how much I hate disobedience. Besides, the fae is where the real fun is. Liam was,” Moriarty smacked his lips and looked heavenward, “absolutely delicious. I should’ve tried fae a long time ago. The magic in their blood is different than the magic in ours, and it gives the blood a little something extra. You should tap Liam’s vein next time he’s over.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

 

“Why are you here Moriarty?”

“I came to scope out the competition. But I hate to say it, even though you just fed, you’re not looking up to the task Sherlock. And John, tsk, tsk, tsk. You’ve allowed the council to practically wring him dry.”

Sherlock leaned back against the kitchen counter and allowed Moriarty to do what he loved to do most, talk.

“Good job on finding my mole though. I didn’t think she would be found so quickly. But I digress; if you want something done right, do it yourself.”

Sherlock crossed his arms.

“Which brings me to my next issue.” Moriarty threw his arm out choking Sherlock. “You and your little boy toy killed some of my men. That wasn’t very nice.” Moriarty stepped closer to Sherlock with each word. “Don’t worry about John, I will get to him.”

 

All of a sudden Moriarty was thrown against Sherlock roughly. John stood in the doorway. John had hit him with a fire blast.

Moriarty started laughing. “Was that suppose to hurt?” he turned to face John. John fired a psionic blast at Moriarty that succeeded in ripping a scream from the maniac’s lips. John fired another psionic blast and Moriarty started mumbling rapidly under his breath.

Moriarty started giving off a dark glow, a smoky grey color.

When John tried the blast again, it fizzled against Moriarty and he absorbed the blast. Moriarty started to laugh. “I’m a new breed now Johnny boy. Now, stop playing around, daddy’s tired of the games.” Moriarty seized John in an invisible grip, slowly raising his hand and John’s body rose off the ground as well. John's face was becoming mottled from the pressure building in his head.

 

John was struggling to breath. Why wasn’t his power working on Moriarty? He closed his eyes.

Sherlock panicked. He was still locked in place by Moriarty, when John closed his eyes, his heart stopped.

John’s eyes snapped open they were opaque white and blazing with an inner fire.

Moriarty grinned like a lunatic. “Has the little judge come out to play?”

John’s body started to shake and glow bright white. His body temperature rose, Moriarty reacted as if his hand had actually been around John's throat and had been burned. He slung his hand out in the pain, throwing John up against the wall with the reaction, a loud _thud_ resonated through the _room._ John's body slid down the wall and he laid there unmoving. Sherlock snapped. His power flared out, hot and hard shoving Moriarty to the ground, breaking the hold Moriarty had on him.

Sherlock rushed to John’s side afraid and immediately checking for a pulse. He found one. Glaring at Moriarty as the other vampire stood up, he knew his eyes were glowing with hatred. “LEAVE!”

Moriarty held his injured hand against his chest. "Alright. I hope I didn't break your little judge. I didn't mean to." his voice came out sounding sad and whiney, "But just so you know Sherlock, I'll be back. I owe you. I owe _both_ of you." Moriarty wiggled the fingers on his uninjured hand as he left their house.

 As soon as Moriarty was gone, Sherlock scooped John up into his arms and carried him into his room, laying him down atop the blanket. He didn't know what to do. John looked fine but instinctively he knew he wasn't. 

_Sherlock, invite me in, hurry. John is bleeding internally. Let me help._

_Please come in on your own volition._ Sherlock thought back immediately not wanting to lose any time.

Otaktay materialized beside the bed, taking in John's prone form. Hurriedly he removed a bundle of dried leaves from a pouch hanging across his chest. He lit the plant with a lighter he pulled from the same pouch.

Sherlock watched as the man waved the smoking bundle over John's body. When he was done he walked around the room waving the plant through the air. Returning to John's side Otaktay placed the plant in a clay bowl beside John's head. The bowl had  _not_  been there before.

Taking a few more herbs from his pouch, Otaktay added them to bowl, lighting them as well.

The aroma of the different types of plants soon filled the room. Sage was the only one Sherlock recognized.

Otaktay held his hands over John’s body and began chanting. It was a beautiful and haunting sound; Otaktay's voice was deep and it resonated around the room, Sherlock could feel it vibrate in his body. The room felt full and thick with energy.

Otaktay raised his hands and voice to the heavens; voice gaining in strength. Sherlock closed his eyes, feeling as if he was being embraced by nature itself.

Otaktay laid his hands on John, sending all the power in the room through his body.

As Sherlock felt the magic and energy receding, he opened his eyes. John’s body was glowing faintly. Otaktay’s voice was dying down as the glow around John’s body faded.

 

“He will be out for about an hour while the magic works through his body.”

Sherlock stood up pulling Otaktay into an uncharacteristic hug. “Thank you.” Sherlock’s voice shook with unshed tears. He released Otaktay. “How did you know he was hurt?”

“His soul called out to me. It sought me out.”

“I don’t understand any of this, but thank you.”

“For the record Sherlock, you _are_ vital to this fight. And you are stronger than every current member on the council. You just have to dig down and free your own magic. It lives in all of us. He,” Otaktay pointed at the prone John, “can’t do this without you. He not only makes you stronger, you make him stronger.” Otaktay gathered up the clay bowl and sat if on the side table beside the bed. As he was preparing to leave Sherlock spoke up again. “Why? Why are you helping him?”

“I've seen the future. There is no future worth living if John doesn’t succeed.” With that bombshell Otaktay disappeared.

 

* * *

 

“Concentrate. Feel the magic around you. In you.” Liam directed both John and Sherlock.

Surprisingly Sherlock was having an easier time tapping into the magic than John.

It had been 2 weeks and no sign of the council aside from Otaktay checking on John from time to time. There had also been no sign of Moriarty and his goons.

Sherlock was still a little skeptical about Otaktay and his readiness to help, but at the same time, what he had said to Sherlock the day he saved John’s life for the second time stayed with him and really shook him up. He knew if something happened to John _his_ world would be bleak, but Otaktay said without him everyone’s life would be bleak. Sherlock suspected this fear was what drove him to excel at learning about magic and attempting to unlock his power.

 

“John love, if you don’t start putting forth some effort I will be forced to call in an expert. Ohh, or I could bring Mycroft over and let him nag you into getting it right.”

“Uh no, please don’t. But who is the expert? I thought that was you.”

“Otaktay.”

“How old is Otaktay?” Sherlock inquired.

“He is pretty young.” John answered even though he knew the question was directed to Liam.

“Yes quite young.” Liam agreed. “Remember he isn’t a vampire, but even still, he looks great for his age.”

Sherlock stared at Liam.

“Fiiiiine. He’s 67.”

Sherlock’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “There is no way he is 67 years old and _not_ a vampire. He doesn’t look any older than his mid thirties.” Sherlock argued.

“I knooow. He has amazing genes. If he and Luisa had been able to have kids, their children would have won all the awards. They would've been stunning.”

 

Sherlock sulked silently. He knew he was just jealous of Otaktay. Not that the man had ever given him a reason to be really. And neither had John. He needed to try and stop being unreasonable. John loved him. John made sure Sherlock knew that especially if Otaktay was around or called. And Sherlock had to be further grateful that Otaktay seemed to understand and hadn’t held it against Sherlock that he always acted a total ass when it came to him.

 

“Otaktay is the real expert John. He’s familiar with a lot of the different types of magic. Some people respond better to different types of magic than others.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. Why did it always come back to Otaktay? Maybe Liam was keen on him and that was why he was always bringing him up.

"That isn't the case Sherlock." Liam assured him. Sherlock looked quickly to John, if Liam had picked up his errant thought maybe John had too. 

Bless his heart, John was sitting on the ground still but his eyes was back closed and he pretended to not be paying them any mind. Taking a page from John’s book, Sherlock closed his eyes and tried again. After several peaceful minutes Sherlock feels a gentle breeze and smells herbs and smoke, things he had come to associate with Otaktay.

 

“Lay on your back John.”

Sherlock’s eyes snapped open at Otaktay’s instruction. Why on earth would John need to lay on his back? All sorts of unbidden thoughts rapidly passed through his mind.

 _Relax brother._ This was to Sherlock. Otaktay had taken to calling him brother, whereas he still called John little brother. Sherlock had surmised it was because Sherlock was ages older than him and John just a few years younger.

_Guard your thoughts. They are a bright beacon of adverse thinking. They can be distracting. Clear your mind. Concentrate on the smell of John’s skin, the soothing touch of his gentle vibes. Look inward and find your confidence, you need not worry._

 

Out loud he said to John, “Keep your eyes closed. What do you feel, what do you sense?”

 

_Sherlock, do you feel that warmth? That love and sense of belonging? That is John reaching out to you. In everything he does he subconsciously reaches for you. You are his rock. That is why I say without you, he cannot to this._

 

John lay trying to sense the world around him. The only thing he could sense clearly was the men around him. Liam had a crackling energy about him, Otaktay was like stepping into a quiet forest. And Sherlock; at this moment he was like a storm at sea. The wind was refreshing but very dangerous. John knew Otaktay was communicating with Sherlock, he just didn’t know why. _He_ was the one who needed the help.

“I can’t sense anything but all of you.” John grumbled. As he concentrated Sherlock went from a storm at sea to gently rolling waves.

“Describe to me what we feel like to you. As much detail as you can.” Otaktay instructed.

“I’d rather not.”

“None of us will think it or you are silly.”

John hated when Otaktay seemed to read his mind. But he always assured John that he cannot read his mind.

 

Sighing, John cleared his mind and _felt._ “Liam is like fast moving energy, like a puppy running in an open field. He feels warm like the sun and clean like after it rain. Otaktay, you are like a quiet forest, peaceful solitude, safe, vast and with all the smells of the forest. And Sherlock.” John swallowed once before continuing. “Sherlock is always like the sea. A few minutes ago he was like a storm at sea, dark, swirling angry clouds and slashing rain. And then the storm died down and he was like a nice day at the ocean. Slight breeze, gentle waves, the sound of the water hitting the sand reminded me of a lullaby, soothing. But now, the waves are crashing into the shore, not angry but restless.” John blushed after He finished answering, imagining that it all sounded very childish and silly.

“Thank you John.” Liam giggled.

John frowned opening his eyes and sitting up. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing boo. I am just tickled pink with the way you described me. I love it. And I say pretty spot on majority of the times. I’ll have to ask you how I feel when I'm angry. I’m curious if I turn into a big bad dog.”

 

John looked to Sherlock, concerned if he would be jealous and upset about the way he described everyone. Sherlock’s eyes was squeezed tight and his brows furrowed with concentration. John looked up to Otaktay.

“That was very good John. We all experience or sense magic in others and the world around us differently. You sense the world wholly as an empath. What are humans made up of?”

John stared at him not sure what sort of answer he was looking for.

“On the most basic level John, physically.”

“Atoms, molecules and the such.”

“Yes. What are animals, plants, stones and everything under the sun made up of?”

John nodded, “The same.”

“So you should be able to sense the magic in everything. Think of everything as having a pulse, to sense the magic around you find the pulse, energy in the people and object around you.”

“Okay, and once I sense it? What next? How do I access it?”

Otaktay looked at John with a calculating gaze. “This is about sensing the magic. Not accessing it. Why do you think you should be able to access it?”

“Well you’ve said plenty of times that magic is everywhere and Moriarty said that the magic in Liam was different than the magic in vampires.”

“Yes. Vampires are magical creatures, they were born of magic. And Liam has fae blood in him. The fae is also a magical race. You are human.”

“Yes. But one, I’m more than just purely human now. Whatever this is in me, making me a judge is magic. Two, Liam says I need to feel the magic in me. Which implies I have magic of my own. And third, I am supposedly from a line of powerful druids. Druids welded magic on the norm. All those things make me believe I should have greater access to the magic around us.”

Otaktay nodded. “Well let’s concentrate on you being able to feel it first and then we will see if you can call it to you. There are different types of magic. You seem to be able to sense life magic easily, the magic that gives life. Or causes life to carry on even after it should have stopped.”

“And I am laying on my back outside, why?”

“It gives you a closer physical connection to the earth around you, allowing you to feel more magic by using your whole body.”

 

Made as much sense as anything so John laid back down and closed his eyes. Trying to clear his mind and push out the sense of the men around him. It always helped John to be able to visualize something happening or himself doing something. He turned his right hand palm side down against the grass and picture him trying to find the pulse of the ground as he would a human patient. John felt he laid there so long with nothing happening he may have actually fell asleep. On the heel of that thought he felt a rumbling beneath his hand. _Was that...what was that actuall_ y?

The rumbling continued, gently rolling all around him. He felt warmth seeping into him where his body touched the ground. He wondered absently if this was the pulse of the earth he was feeling or if he was a bloody idiot lying on the ground as an earthquake was happening around him.

“Try to focus on the magic.” Otaktay’s voice floated to him.

John had no clue how he was supposed to do that so he visualized he could see the magic as a ball of light in his left hand. His hands felt both warm and cold at the same time as the ball in his hand grew. He heard Liam gasp. John knew if he was in any danger from sources the three men wouldn't allow anything happen to him. He continued to focus on his hand while waiting on his next instruction.

“John, sit up, keep your eyes closed. Good now slowly open your eyes.”

John did as instructed and also let out a gasp upon opening his eyes. In his hand was a ball of pulsating white light. Panicking he snatching his hand back and scrambled to his feet. The light fell and appeared to shatter as a solid object would. Slowly the particles of light faded and absorbed into whatever object they had landed on. Alarmed John looked up at the three men. They were standing around him in a loose semi circle. Both Liam and Otaktay were looking at John as if he had two heads on his shoulders. And Sherlock looked at him as if he had hung the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter was a bit slow compared to others...but hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. 
> 
> And thank you for reading my work and all the great comments I receive. ❤❤❤


	25. Chapter 25

“What? What’s the problem why are you two looking at me like that?” John questioned, panic slowly seeping into his voice.

Liam spoke first. “Chiiiiiild. Look at you!” Turning to address Otaktay, Liam said, “The prophecy does say he will be stronger than the past and the strongest yet. That could explain this.”

“Explain what dammit?”

Sherlock took John’s hand in a sign of support and solidarity.

“We don’t mean to alarm you little brother. It is just that what you just accomplished I have seen very few people do. Let alone a human with no magical background.”

John gave a humorless smile. “We’ve been through this, I am no longer just human, and you say human like it’s beneath you, aren’t you human?” John showed animosity towards Otaktay for the first time since meeting the man.

“Don’t misunderstand John, we are both more than human. I do not mean to come across as if I feel that I am higher up on the totem pole than other humans. I do not. You and I are actually very similar.”

Sherlock fought to keep his jealousy and ire down at Otaktay’s  words.

“But the ease that you called magic to you and formed it into a physical, tangible entity I have never seen done in that manner. It was unexpected. Do you care to try again?”

John looked up at Sherlock, silently seeking his advice. Sherlock squeezed his hand and gave him a slightly smile, a simple upturning of one side of his mouth.

 

Without discussing his intentions to the other men, John closed his eyes with his left hand turned upwards. He imagined the magic pooling into his hand. It was quick and sudden. Far quicker than before. He opened his eyes slowly looking down at his hand. John fought down his panic, taking in the glow of his body and the ebb and flow of cold and heat in that hand. He looked over to Sherlock he was glowing as well. And finally he looked over to Liam and Otaktay. Liam was grinning like a proud mother, whereas Otaktay was very pensive.

 

John dropped Sherlock’s hand and the vampire stopped glowing. John looked at the ball of light in his other hand. It felt real, very physical. He wondered if he could handle it like a physical object. John passed the ball from his left hand to his right. No problem. He smiled absently. “Sherlock, put out your hand.” Sherlock did as asked. John attempted to pass the magic to Sherlock; it fell through his hand and shattered on the ground. “Huh. That’s odd.” John murmured.

 

John closed his eyes and tried calling magic to him again. This time it was slow moving. It took twice as long to accumulate the amount of magic in his hand as it did the other two times. John figured it would take a couple more trials to figure the reason for that but right now John wanted to see what he could actually do with the magic. “Come here Sherlock.” Again Sherlock went to John, with no fear or hesitation.

John looked up at Sherlock.

Sherlock trusted him completely. He smirked trying to encourage John to do whatever it was he wanted to try.

John didn’t know why he was nervous all of a sudden, but he was. Taking his left hand he pressed the ball of concentrated magic into Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock’s head fell back, mouth opening on a silent cry. He could feel the magic pushing through him. It was both hot and cold at the same time. It was too much, he didn’t think his body could hold it all. How on earth had John been able to hold it in his hands?

 

 _Are you all right Sherlock?_ Came John’s voice.

Sherlock couldn’t speak. He felt like he had no control over his body so he spoke back to John in the same manner. _I don’t know. It feels...it feels very overwhelming. I don’t know what to do with the magic._

John looked to Otaktay, “What should Sherlock do with the magic?”

Otaktay thought for a brief moment. Typically magic was used to heal or invoke an outcome. Sherlock didn’t need to invoke any outcomes. “Tell him to heal himself. To take away the blockage that is preventing him from reaching his full potential.”

_Heal yourself Sherlock. Make yourself whole. Whatever is blocking you from your power, break down the wall, shove aside your fears. Let go._

 

Sherlock did as instructed he just let go. It felt as if he had always had a stiff, suffocating blanket wrapped tightly around him and then letting go...it felt like he could stand taller, breathe easier, see clearer. He opened his eyes and caught the tail end of glow fading from his skin. He looked at John, his eyes full of wonder. How could his little human do all these things?

 

Abruptly a pressure fell on the party of four from above. John joined hands with Sherlock and the usual pain associated with the arrival of the council lessened exponentially. John looked at their joined hands.

Otaktay being human, mostly, and not sensitive to vampire power wasn’t affected by their arrival. Liam on the  other hand, bowed and took a knee, rather it was from the pulsating pressure of the councils combined power or out of respect, John didn't’ know, nor care.

Mycroft, Rayne, Ephraim, Delma, Mansi and Luisa landed in their backyard.

“How can I be of service today?” John said with just a hint of annoyance.

Rayne stepped closer to John and Sherlock. She was wearing a black and white pinstripe form fitting dress with bright red heels and matching lipstick. John wasn’t sure why he always took note of what she was wearing. Maybe part of him was attracted to her. Or maybe, part of him was jealous of how great she and Sherlock would look together. Which was utterly preposterous. Sherlock admittedly had never been into women. Even when he had been human he couldn’t even bring himself to fake the attraction to a woman to keep from being outted and possibly imprisoned. Nonetheless, John found himself pressing closer to Sherlock.

“Someone has found their power.” she purred as she walked around the duo. She cut her eyes to Otaktay. “Should I be concerned?” she asked going back to stand beside Ephraim and Mycroft.

“No. I am simply helping them become.”

 

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and took in the council members. They were all very different with different ages and power levels. Rayne was definitely the oldest out of the present party but there was something off about her. Not off like he needed to watch his back, but as in something was wrong or troubling her.

“We needed to meet. We have some issues with the council and we need to clear them up.”

“What do you mean issues?” John asked, watching the woman closely.

“Structure and protocols.”

Delma stepped forward. “I would like to resign from the council and serve more as a unique guard for the judge.”

“As would I.” announced Mansi.

“Um, what?” John looked to Sherlock to gauge his reaction to what the women were saying.

“And I too would like a reprieve from serving on the council. Only, I am not as selfless in my request. I simply want to live out the rest of my life in peace. Away from the constant disagreements and decision making.” This came from Ephraim.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Three of you want to resign? That would only leave four members, five if you count the O.V.”

“O.V.?” Mycroft asked.

“Original Vampire.” Sherlock explained.

“Ahh. To answer you John, you and Sherlock will need to take your places on the council and Liam will be an advisor for the council.”

Liam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, hiding under his bangs.

“And what does that entail?” John inquired. “Sherlock and I taking our spots on the council?”

“You and Sherlock would be head of the council. And that means you too will start calling the shots.” Mycroft explained.

“No offense Liam,” Liam smiled encouragingly at John. “but, by you assigning Liam to be our advisor is that your way of keeping a foothold in the head position?” John continued.

“Not at all. You already take his advice, we figured it would make your transitions easier.” Mycroft took in Liam’s demeanor and he looked back at John and Sherlock. “But, if Liam does not want it, of course he does not have to take it.”

“If John and Sherlock would like me to take the position I will gladly take it.” he said.

“This is all very sweet but we need to get this all under way so we can talk about more important things. John, Sherlock. The two of you will be the new head of the council. It will not be just a vampire council anymore. We are inviting in other species as before, so it can be a more united council of all supernatural beings. Do you accept your roles?”

Sherlock and John looked at one another. “Why not just John?” Sherlock asked. “He’s the judge, not me. You’ve never had two before; even back during times of the first council. The judge was the head and then there were representatives of each race of supernatural beings.”

“Times have changed Sherlock, now do you accept your role?” Mycroft was clearly getting impatient with the whole matter. What Sherlock couldn’t understand was, Mycroft seemed the type to like being in control, to need to have his thumb over the pulse of all decisions, why was he so readily giving up his position as head of the council.

“I accept my role and responsibility as one half of the council head.” John stepped up announcing.

This left Sherlock with no choice but to accept.

“As do I.”

Sherlock and John both turned to face Liam. “Will you accept the position as advisor?” John asked.

Liam let out a high pitched squeal and hopped up and down a couple of times before he caught himself. “Ahem ahem. Sorry. Yes, yes I accept.” he was beaming, grinning from ear to ear.

Mycroft allowed himself a small indulgent smile at Liam’s antics.

 

Sherlock spoke up again. “I suggest that every member of the council have a specialty or cause that they are responsible for. I further suggest that Otaktay be in charge of anything defense oriented.”

“Not that I disagree with your choice, why defense, why not the council’s protection altogether?” Rayne asked.

“Otaktay seems to be the most level headed one here. His concern’s first and foremost are always the safety of everyone. And hopefully if our defenses are on point we won’t have to worry too much about offense. Besides we have Delma and Mansi as guard.”

“No. We are to guard John exclusively.” Delma corrected.

“Which also means you protect Sherlock. One does not come before the other. Think of them as two halves of a whole.” Otakatay reminded the group. “It is the reason _they_ are the head. Not just John and not just Sherlock.”

“All right. We should move in as well.” Mansi announced.

Liam laughed. “I’ve tried that route. They like their privacy.”

“I am open to having a separate place built for the three of you.” Sherlock stated looking at John as he said it. John had been quiet since accepting his role.

“Three?” asked Luisa.

“Yes, three. Mansi, Delma, and Liam.” Sherlock clarified.

“You would have to build something large enough for all of the council. We are to all lay our heads in the same place.” Otaktay explained.

John cursed under his breath. He wondered if it was too late to back out. Sighing he decided he should get fully on board.

 

“None of us have contacted the parties we were suppose to try and recruit. I suggest we get on that right away. Sherlock you can start building the new lodging. Ephraim,” John offered his hand to the man, “Go in peace brother, live long and be happy.”

Ephraim shook the offered hand and turned and hugged the women before leaving.

“What are you good at Rayne and Mycroft?”

“Being underestimated.” Rayne answered seriously.

“I’m good at getting people to act against their own best interest.” Mycroft answered.

“Then might I suggest you be in charge of recruiting the other members of our council.”

“Certainly John. And Rayne, what might you have her do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m sure we’ll find something. But I’m thinking offensive matters.”

“Mycroft, I think we should wait to try and recruit a dark fae representative until after the war. Liam, connect with the light fae. Sherlock, contact contractors, Otaktay do you have allies in...I’m not  exactly sure how to word my question or what to call these individuals. Do you have any allies, that are human, and that are also magic workers? If that makes any sense.”

“You mean, witches, warlocks, shamans and the such. Yes. I have a few."

"Do you feel they should be represented on the council, or would you serve as their representative?” John asked.

“Technically, yes to both questions.”

“Well, I don’t have any idea how many races or species there are and that would need to be represented here on the council. You all have more knowledge and experiences in that department. If you know of any representation we are lacking, please go out there and recruit. Also, please remember to mention the impending war. I am going to go speak with Lestrade.”

 

Rayne took off first. Liam blew a kiss to Mycroft before they went their separate ways. Sherlock, John, Mansi, Delma, Otaktay and Luisa were left.

“Delma and I will be accompanying you to meet the vampire hunter. We will be around the front waiting.” Mansi said not leaving any room for John to argue. She and Delma walked around to the front of the house to wait.

Sherlock pulled John off to the side, pulling him into his arms and hugging him tightly. Over John’s head Sherlock watched as Luisa pulled Otaktay into an extremely hot kiss. Sherlock let go of John’s hand. “I am very proud of you. The way you stepped up to your position. You hit the ground running. Anyone looking on would think you had always been the head of the council.”

“Co-head and I don’t know about that. But thank you; I took my direction from you.”

Sherlock bent his head placing a very chaste kiss against John’s lips. “Hurry back, I have plans for you before it gets crazy around here.” Sherlock smiled wickedly at John.


	26. Lestrade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel I must place a warning here. This chapter mentions abusive relationships and battered women.

John drove while Delma sat in the passenger seat and Mansi in the back. Both women were quiet and John was perfectly okay with that, he had other things on his mind. But the silence was cut short when they had almost reached the city limits. “Why do you do it?” Mansi asked from the back seat, she had no trace of an accent unlike most of the other members of the council.

“Why do I do what? John questioned, not quite sure what she was asking.

“Why do you give in to the council?”

“I’m not. I am giving in to doing the right thing. People’s lives are at stake. It’s not about me, as much as I would love to turn my back and let it be someone else's problem, I can't.”

“We suspected as much, this is why we want to protect and serve you.” Delma answered. “You are not like the council, you care. We aren't so sure about the vampire you choose to be with.”

John looked over quickly to Delma. “You say vampire like it's a bad thing; and what do you mean about, you’re not sure about Sherlock?”

“I despise my kind.” Mansi said quietly from the back seat.

“I mean, Sherlock is a vampire, he is not only good at pretending, vampires aren't known for their generosity or loving dispositions.” explained Delma.

John shook his head. He couldn’t understand the animosity coming off of the two women. They were both vampires yet he could feel how much they truly hated their kind. They were very good at hiding their hatred, he hadn’t even picked up on it before now. “Sherlock is a good man. He...he isn’t like the vampires you see in movies or like Ellanora, Baxter or Eka. Or Moriarty. He cares about vampires as a whole and want them to do better, treat each other _and_ humans better. He has always tried to stay beneath the interest and curiosity of other vampires because he _is_ different.”

Mansi scoffed in the backseat.

Looking into the rearview mirror at her John addressed her disbelief. “Oh so I am to believe you and Delma are different and unlike other vampires, but it is too hard to believe Sherlock could be too? Un-fucking-believable.”

“He is a man.” Mansi tried explaining.

“So am I!” John yelled.

“But you are human.” Delma chimed in.

John felt like he was being double teamed with their nonsense. He yanked the steering wheel to the right, swerving across two lanes to rest on the shoulder of the road. Throwing the car in park he turned to try and face both women. “What is your problem with Sherlock, honestly?”

Delma turned and looked at Mansi before dropping her gaze to her hands.

“Moriarty turned me against my will.” Mansi announced quietly.

“Okay. So you and Sherlock have something in common. What is the issue?”

Delma met John’s gaze, “I’ve seen Sherlock when he was with Moriarty. He was happy. You aren’t happy when you are with sometime _that_ deprived unless you enjoy what they are doing. Unless you are doing it too.”

“Are you fucking with me right now? Sherlock was terrified when he was with Moriarty. Sure he loved him, but you can’t hold love against him. How is his situation any different than a woman caught in an abusive relationship? Over and over women stay with an abusive partner out of love, out of loyalty, out of fear. Until they end up dead or feel strong enough to leave. Plenty of women have said their partner made them feel like they deserved the ill treatment. A lot of them you wouldn’t even know were being abused because in public they seem so fucking happy. So tell me, how the _fuck_ that is any different then Sherlock’s case? Is it because he is a man? Well Moriarty was a vampire.”

“But he turned Sherlock! So then Sherlock was a vampire too!” Mansi yelled back.

“You k ow baby vampires aren't on the same level as their master vampires. Also, as soon as Sherlock felt strong enough to break away he did. And he has never looked back.”

“You are right.” Delma admitted begrudgingly.

“Your words don’t mean shit to me. I don’t care if you agree with me or not. I can’t believe you were holding the company he kept against him; I didn't think the two of you were so small minded, especially given the time you were born into. I can’t...I don’t want you two guarding me. You can resign the council all you want but I can't have you guarding me. I can’t trust your judgement. Please get out of my car and do not return to my place.”

Mansi and Delma locked eyes and then got out of the car.

John put the car in gear and maneuvered back on the road. He had a lunch appoint with Lestrade to keep.

* * *

 

John and Lestrade made small talk while they ate. Once the waiter had removed their plates and brought out some coffee the real conversation began.

“No one's heard from you or even seen you since the day after the fundraiser. I even checked Barts, they told me you resigned, giving no notice. And Mrs. Hudson said you vacated your flat, also with no notice. Your actions seemed highly suspicious, almost like you were in trouble and needed to get away fast. Only, none of your money had been touched and deposits were being made regularly. I also found no warrants or heard any rumors of you being in trouble with anything illegal. I reasoned that if you _were_ in trouble you would ask me for help. You do know you can ask me for help right? _If_ you were in trouble, that is.”

John smirked good naturally and scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, that’s actually why I’ve asked you out to lunch. I need your help.”

“Of course;anything. What do you need from me?”

Lestrade picked up his coffee and was sipping when John spoke next.

“I need you to get the vampire hunter coalition or whatever you call yourselves to help me take out a dangerous rogue vampire.”

Lestrade eyes widened and he spit his coffee all over the table. Grabbing his napkin he started mopping up the mess. When he was done he looked at John. “Excuse me? Is this some kind of joke? Vampire coalition, rogue vampire? What on earth are you on about?”

“Come on Lestrade, I have it from a reliable source you are the head of the London chapter.”

Lestrade stared at John blankly.

The hairs on the back of John’s neck stood up, he cursed under his breath.

“I’m sorry John, I really have no-” Lestrade jumped up reaching behind his back as he stared over John’s shoulder.

John just sighed. He knew Mansi and Delma was behind him. So much for Lestrade not knowing what John was talking about. “Sit down Greg. What were you saying about not knowing what I was talking about? How about we cut the crap and we have an honest conversation.” Greg Lestrade sat down but didn’t take his eyes off of the women behind John. “What’s behind your back Lestrade?”

“A hatchet.”

It was John’s turn to look surprised. “A hatchet really? You do realize by time you’d pulled it out, you would have been dead. These two women are council level vampires.”

Lestrade looked back to John finally. “You aren’t one of them, I would’ve known.”

“No I’m not one of them, but my question to you is how can you tell a vampire from a human?”

“How can you?” Lestrade shot back.

“I can feel them, sense them.”

“I can sense them to. They feel like an ice cold breeze. How is it that you came to know about vampires John?”

“The night of the fundraiser. A vampire by the name of Moriarty,” Lestrade tensed at the mention of Moriarty, “I see you’ve heard of him. But anyways, he had _intentions,_ of what, I don’t know, and I’m glad I never found out. But long story short a vampire named Sherlock saved me. And the rest is pretty much details.”

“Oh no you don’t. I know you John Watson! You are one of the most level headed people I know. Something major would have happened to make you even believe in vampires. I mean I would understand trying to run when you found out they were real, but why come back and then seek out hunters?”

“I didn’t run. Not really. I moved in with Sherlock and he vowed to keep me safe from Moriarty; and things just evolved from there.”

“What do you mean _evolved_?”

John blushed and looked away.

“What!? Bloody tell me.”

“Um, well, Lestrade,”

“Yeah, on with it!”

“Sherlock and I are together.”

“Yes. You’ve said as much. He’s keeping you safe. But why you would believe a vampire is beyond me.”

“No you bloody idiot, we’re _together_ together. You know, romantically.”

Lestrade paused with his mouth froze in an ‘O’.

 

Finally snapping out of it, the Detective Inspector leaned back in his seat, crossing an ankle across his knee and stroking his chin. “Uh un. Nope. I don’t believe it.” Leaning forward abruptly Lestrade asked, “Do they have you under some sort of vampire mumbo jumbo? But if they did you wouldn’t know it now, would you?”

“Lestrade! I’m serious. And I am immune to all vampire powers. Except for Sherlock’s charm apparently.”

“But Sherlock is a bloke, right? Since when were you into blokes? What happened to Mary?”

“That didn’t work out Lestrade, you know that.”

“Yes, but I always thought you two would get back together.”

“Nope. Not going to happen. I’m with Sherlock now. And I am well aware of the fact that he is a man. So can we move past this? Please.”

Lestrade leaned forward even further and whispered, “Are you shagging him? A man? A vampire? A man vampire?”

“Yes! Yes I am and he is a right good shag. Now can we _please_ move on?”

“Alright, alright. You don’t have to yell.”

 

John stared hard at Lestrade. Not saying anything but clearly frustrated.

“So tell me the complete story John. And leave nothing out.”

“Will you help me?”

“Tell me how you got drawn into all of this and I might. I can’t understand how you are even involved with them; let alone  _trust_ them.”

“Not these two, but Sherlock yes. Not all vampires are bad Greg. Just like not all people are good.”

“I’ve seen nothing but bad vampires, excuse me if I am a little reticent to believe there are good ones.” he looked pointedly at the female vamps behind John.

 

“Come back home with me, and I’ll fill you in on everything.”

Delma stepped forward, “John I must advise agai-”

“And I told you I didn’t want your assistance.” John snapped.

Lestrade watched the interaction with interest. These women were vampires, and John was not, yet they spoke to him, deferred to him like he was their leader. “You know what? I will go back with you. I need the whole story I feel like I am missing something.”

  


Mansi stepped up to John. “John I am sorry for our thoughtless and bigoted words, I assure you that we can be trusted. Please let us do our job.”

John looked her in the eyes and said, “Go. Away.”

 

John took another gulp of his coffee and stood up. They’d met at Angelos so there was no need to pay. Sherlock would square away their meal. John waved to Angelo as he and Lestrade walked out of the restaurant. Mansi and Delma were right behind them and it was grated on John’s nerves. He got behind the wheel as Lestrade got in the passenger seat.

“What about them?” Lestrade asked nodding his head at the women.

“I told them to leave me alone. You see how well that’s working. Just ignore them.”

John pulled out into traffic and on the trip home he told Lestrade everything that had happened since meeting Moriarty and Sherlock. He had to elaborate on a few things, and there was other things Greg didn’t believe at all. John promised him it was all very true and he could demonstrate his abilities for him. When they pulled up to the house Mansi and Delma was standing like sentinels beside the front door. John sighed but said nothing. He pulled into the garage and shut off the car, he and Lestrade getting out and walking to the door that lead inside.

“Sherlock!” John called from the door. Sherlock appeared dragging John up against him and kissing him hotly.

Lestrade cleared his throat from the doorway on the garage side.

Sherlock stiffened but didn’t break off his kiss. He finished it, letting it wind down slowly before releasing John.

John was as red as a tomato when he faced Lestrade. “Greg Lestrade, this is Sherlock Holmes; Sherlock, Greg Lestrade.”

_You should have warned me that you were bringing someone back. I told you I had plans for you. What if I had been naked?_

_Then I guess I would be roasting Lestrade's eyes right now had that happened._

Both men laughed out loud startling Lestrade. “Were you doing the mind thing? Speaking telepathically?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“John why haven’t you invited Graham inside. That’s a bit rude of you.”

“It’s Greg actually.” Lestrade corrected.

“That’s why I called you. It’s your house, you have to invite him in.”

Sherlock ran his knuckles lightly down John's jaw, “Do you not call this place home as well?”

“Yes.”

“Then this is your home as well and can invite him in.”

John turned to Lestrade. “Greg Lestrade won’t you please join us momentarily of your own volition?”

Lestrade stepped through the door. “Thank you.”

 

“So this is the vampire hunter?” Sherlock asked sitting in his leather seat staring at Lestrade on the couch.

“Yes. As you were correctly informed I am the head of the London chapter. We have roughly 243 currently active members.”

“And you brought him here, why John?”

“I haven’t quite convinced him to help us yet. He's a bit skeptical about some parts of my story.”

Sherlock turned and faced John. “So you brought him here to perform for him like some monkey in a circus act?” Sherlock sounded pissed.

Undeterred John answered, “Partly yes. I also wanted him to meet a vampire that was the complete opposite of what he thought vampires to be. A great person who cares about the wellbeing of everyone, not just vampires.”

“I don’t understand. You had Mansi and Delma with you. Why would you need to bring him here to meet them?”

John laughed. “You bloody idiot. I brought him here to meet you.”

Sherlock blinked several times before speaking again. “So, you brought him here, thinking that once he met me, he would agree to help us?”

“Yes.”

“But why didn’t you just introduce him to Mansi and or Delma?”

“I told them I no longer wished to work with them. They can resign the council as they wished but I did not want them guarding me.”

“You do realize they are standing in front of the house, right?”

“Yes Sherlock. Apparently they are more stubborn than you. They have been following me around all day, even after I’ve told them repeatedly to get lost.”

Suddenly all serious Sherlock inquired of John, “What happened?”

“Nothing.” he lied quietly.

“John Watson I may be the one that can’t physically lie to you, but you better believe you can’t lie to me either, I can tell when you are lying. Now tell me what bloody happened.”

John stayed quiet, he didn’t want Sherlock to be subjected to their unwarranted hatred.

 

Sherlock was pissed. Not at John, but at the two women outside. It would have to be bad for John to not only tell the women that he didn’t want their help but to also keep the reason for it from him. Sherlock hopped from his chair turning his back on John and Lestrade, facing the front door. His power slowly bleed out of him filling the room oppressively. “Delma and Mansi, come here _now_!”

Normally when a vampire's powers were effecting John in a negative, or hurtful way, touching Sherlock helped ease the pain. But under the circumstances John wasn’t sure what he should do. Sherlock’s power had never been this strong or hostile. It beat at him internally and out. John gripped his head and leaned forward trying every coping mechanism he’d learned, trying to lessen the pain. Absently he felt hands on him. He was positive they weren’t Sherlock’s, but he was in so much pain he didn’t care it it was Moriarty himself.

 

Sherlock oblivious to John’s turmoil faced Delma and Mansi. “Why has John refused your services?” Mansi stepped forward. Eyes going wide as she took in the scene behind Sherlock.

Her voice shook as she spoke. “He said he could not trust our judgement so he did not want us at his back.” At that moment, Mansi looked every bit of the 16 years old she had been when she was turned. Her fear shone bright in her eyes and she shook visibly.

Delma tried to go to Mansi, but found she was froze in place.

“And what was said or done that led the good doctor to believe your judgement was compromised?” Sherlock was speaking extremely low, but his presence filled up the room so that was all that you heard.

“Sire, if I may, I will answer you but John needs help.” Sherlock confused turned to look at John. What he saw froze his soul. John was clenched in Lestrade's arms, bleeding profusely from his eyes, nose and ears. Immediately he reigned in his power; rushing to John, he dropped to the floor in front of him and pulled him down into his arms.

“John? John? Can you hear me John? I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for this...I would never hurt you. Please be all right.” Sherlock rocked the smaller man in his arms, holding him tightly; frightened that he’d done irreparable harm to him.

 

The front door flew open under a small maelstrom. Sherlock didn’t bother to turn and see who it was.

Otaktay stalked in. Weapons at the ready. He took a look around the room and then put them away. He walked slowly over to Sherlock and John, he too sank to his knees and ran his hand several inches from the surface of John’s skin. Looking up at Sherlock he said, “Get him to the room and leave the house.”

Sherlock didn’t hesitate. He rushed to his room depositing a shaking, quietly keening John on the bed. Sherlock took one last, quick look at John before he sped off at super speed out of the house.


	27. Chapter 27

Sherlock had grown accustomed to listening to Otaktay whenever he spoke, or directed him. Regardless of how he felt about him and John’s relationship, Sherlock realized he trusted Otaktay whole heartedly. The man had never stirred him wrong. But now that Sherlock had a moment of clear thinking, why had Otaktay told Sherlock to leave. He had never done so before. And in fact, he’d always stressed the fact that John needed him because they were two sides to a whole.

 

Sherlock had now worked himsel into a panic. Was it possible for it not to have been Otaktay? Or could he have been under the control of another? Sherlock fought with himself. Should he go back and make sure everything is as it should be, or should he stay away as instructed? Ugh! Sherlock hated not knowing what to do.

 

John was in such pain. It felt like someone was literally tearing him apart from the inside. He vaguely heard Otaktay order Sherlock away. He wanted to tell Sherlock to stay, but he was unable to speak for all of the pain. It had lessened considerably after Sherlock reigned in his power. But it was like Sherlock had jump started something within John and it wasn’t letting go.

Instinctively he felt that he needed Sherlock, but Sherlock was gone.

Otaktay was speaking, but he couldn’t quite make out his words. He needed to focus. When John did, what he heard scared the pain almost clear out of him.

“Yes sire. As you said, Sherlock left without questioning me. I am unsure what happened here, but John is bleeding and hurt, that will make it easier. Yes sire, I don’t believe anyone suspects anything. I am very good at what I do. You have my word, it will be done.”

 

John’s panic tripled exponentially. Who was this? It most definitely was not Otaktay. And with that being said how did he gain entrance to their house?

The man posing as Otaktay walked over to John. John had no trouble faking as if he was still hurting. He felt a finger run down his arm. “John can you hear me?” John didn’t reply. Instead he concentrated. John concentrated on magic; trying to call it to him to...to do what he didn’t know. But he pictured a small amount of magic pooling in his center, healing him rapidly.

Nothing happened. Not that he could tell any ways. He slowly opened his eyes and he was able to see the person’s true form beneath the Otaktay disguise. It was like seeing an image of Otaktay superimposed over another person. “Otaktay?” he squeaked out.

“Yes John. How are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts.”

“What happened?” The Otaktay impersonator questioned.

“Sherlock…”

 

Sherlock stalked back and forth. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong and he needed to get back to John right away. Summoning his power he thought of Otaktay, _John is in trouble_ he thought, hoping the message got to him. He knew that it was suppose to be Otaktay who was with John, but he had a sinking feeling that was increasing with each moment that that had not been Otaktay. Sherlock concentrated on the power flowing through him and envisioned himself standing in his sitting room. He had never been able to teleport or appear and disappear with a thought, he hoped with the recent power boost he would succeed. Sherlock felt like everything slowed to a crawl while all the molecules in his body shook rapidly. He closed his eyes and when he reopened them he was standing in front of a startled Lestrade. Not sparing a moment for the hunter, Sherlock sped to his room, breaking down the door to find someone who looked like Otaktay standing over John chanting.

In his heart Sherlock now knew this wasn't Otaktay. There were no herbs burning and the beautiful quality of Otaktay’s voice was missing as well. Sherlock took in all things amiss in a matter of seconds. Including the fact that John was in distress on the bed.

 

Without second guessing himself, Sherlock rushed the individual, wrapping his long slender fingers around the intruders head, twisting, snapping his neck before he had a chance to register Sherlock was even in the room.

Before the imposters body hit the floor, Sherlock was already on the bed checking on John. He was no longer seizing but still seemed to be having trouble breathing.

 

The smell of sage, sandalwood and lavender suddenly filled the room. There were other scents, but as usual Sherlock couldn’t pinpoint the actual plants. He didn’t have to look up to _know_ this was Otaktay.

He began burning herbs and plants, chanting a small prayer before sitting alongside Sherlock. Otaktay ran his hands several inches above John’s skin, as he often did when he was trying to detect what was wrong. After a moment or so Otaktay stopped his chanting and took Sherlock’s and one of John’s hands in his own. Sherlock following his lead took John other hand in his free one.

“We must help him heal, the man that was here was with the dark fae, he was trying to not only steal John's power but also lock him inside his own mind. Since he could not kill him, this was the best that he could do. But now we need to help John find his way back.”

“How?”

“First we will need to lend him some of our power and secondly, talk to him, let your voice be his guide. While you are speaking to him I will try and physically guide him back.” Otaktay closed his eyes and slumped forward, seemingly sleep or in a trance.

Sherlock closed his eyes and tried replicating what he did the night John had judged Ellanora and Baxter. He imagined his power flowing out of him and into John, he envisioned it moving slowly and filling John up gently, not like last time when John was almost bent in two under the force of Sherlock’s power. Sherlock opened his eyes and watched as a slight glow surrounded John’s inert body; only thing left to do was make sure his doctor returned to him.

 

_John. I don’t know if you can hear me, but Otaktay assures me you can. The real Otaktay. I am...so, so sorry. If I hadn’t let my anger get the best of me I wouldn’t have hurt you. At the very least I would have noticed before it had gotten that far. If I hadn’t hurt you, you wouldn’t have been defenseless against that son of a bitch. Please forgive me John. I know I don’t tell you, or show you as I should. But I love you John Watson. I won’t survive without out you. You maybe the human one, but you have surely made me just as mortal with your own mortality. Come back to me Dr. Watson, I...need you. You have completely changed my world, you’ve shown me so so much. I can't walk through this life alone anymore. I wouldn’t want to. Take my power and get back to me._

Sherlock had his eyes closed as he spoke telepathically to John. He opened his eyes to asses the situation. John was still out, but his body still lightly glowing. Otaktay hadn’t moved. He was still slumped over but he hadn’t let go of either of their hands. Sherlock figured they weren’t out the woods yet.

 _John, you’ve shown me laughter, I didn’t know much of laughter before you. Remember that time you almost burned down the sitting room?_ Sherlock let a smile spread across his face. _Or how about that time we, well you wanted to ahem ahem, try shall I say- something different, and it resulted in us both almost being arrested for indecency. I love how fierce you can be at times. My favorite time has got to be when we were interrupted in the shower. But despite all of our great moments my favorite is the night you agreed to move in with me._

Sherlock was quiet for a spell lost in his thoughts and memories of his short time with John. He poured all that emotion into the man beside him. Otaktay had been correct, a world where John Watson didn’t succeed was not a world he wanted to live in. He would carve out his own physical heart if John didn’t make it back to him. John was his real heart and if his heart didn’t survive what good was a physical one?

 

Someone brushed a finger across his cheek. Opening his eyes he saw a bleary eyed John looking up at him. John’s fingertip was stained red. Sherlock had been crying. He hadn’t even realized. He took John’s now free hand. He looked around for Otaktay. He wasn’t in sight; neither was the body of the man Sherlock had killed.

“Are- are you okay?”

John nodded.

“I am so sorry mon cœur. I am sorry.” Sherlock was crying again. He pulled John up into a loose embrace. He didn’t want to hurt him further.

“One of my favorite moments Sherlock was the night Jacques tried to kill me. I could see, well I couldn’t actually see, but I could tell clearly how much you cared about me. You were so worried about me. You worry a lot and you get all big bad vampire when you do. The incident in the club I didn’t get to witness, when you threatened everyone there, when you forced all the council members out. You’re the fierce one, especially when so am in danger or you think someone has wronged me. But Sherlock you can’t fight all my battles. You have to trust that I know what I’m doing. And if I don’t you know I will ask for your help.”

Sherlock felt rightly contrite. “Again; I’m sorry.” Sherlock laid down pulling John with him. They lay there quietly, simply relaxing in each others presence.

There was a hesitant knock on the door. “Come in Lestrade.” John called out.

Lestrade walked in, clearly worried for John. “How are you mate?”

“Fine. Thank you. You’re okay, yes? No one else was hurt right?”

“No. I mean, no one else was hurt. Not no that I'm okay, or not okay. Whatever.” Lestrade stepped closer. He took in the scene. Sherlock had John held tightly against him, and there were tear stains on his cheeks. Looking around the room there were small bowls of plants, herbs or just plain incense burning. And a puddle of blood on the floor. As he stood there searching for words Otaktay walked in with a bucket and some old rags and began cleaning up the blood.

“Um I don’t mean to be insensitive, but what the hell was all that? I mean you get hurt I am assuming by Sherlock, and then some guy flys in the room and tell Sherlock to take you in here and leave. He does. But then he speeds, and I mean speeds out of the house. I could barely see it was him. And then he’s back and panicking. He speeds in the room and then the same guy comes out of the room holding the decapitated body of himself. What!?”

“Well when you explain it like that, I can see why this would all look so...weird.” John answered.

“So you understand the concerns I have.”

Otaktay spoke, “It is understood. Let me explain what happened here.”

“Thank you!” Lestrade sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, facing Otaktay.

 

Otaktay continued to clean up the blood as he explained. “Sherlock recently gained power when he tore down a barrier keeping him from accessing all of his power. And again when he accepted his role as one half of the council’s head.”

“Wait, I did what?” Sherlock questioned.

“As you see, he was not aware of his second power boost, and he’s had no practice. When he got angry he released his power, think of it like a dam opening and flooding the surrounding areas. Now John, as extraordinary as he is, and for all the gifts he has, he is extremely sensitive to vampires and their power. He feels it physically and since he is still a human, he can get hurt. I normally assist when John get’s hurt metaphysically, a man aligned with the dark fae came in here and under the guise of a spell, he impersonated me. Sherlock listened to the man, the man was trying to separate John and Sherlock. They are both stronger together.”

“Was he trying to kill him?”Lestrade inquired.

“He can’t. That is why he was trying to steal his power and trap him in his own mind. He would be as good as dead if he the man had succeeded.”

“And how did you know John was in trouble and how did you get in?”

“Sherlock was able to contact me in the dream realm and I materialized in the room.”

 

“Okay, so now that we have answered all your questions about what has transpired here, what do you mean he couldn’t kill me?” John sat up directing his question at the man on the floor.

“The old stories say that the judges lived an abnormally long time, they didn’t age the same way that we do.” John gave Otaktay a pointed look. “Okay the way Lestrade does. They further say that a judge can only be killed in their sleep. But, only if there is another judge to take his place. If there are no judges to take his place, he can not be killed.”

“But I can be hurt.”

“Yes.”

“What did you mean age like me? You’re not a vampire, I pretty sure you’re human.”

“I am. But I age much slower than you and other humans. I am in my 60’s.”

Lestrade gapped at Otaktay. “You’re shitting me.”

Otaktay shook his head.

“What did you do with the body of fake you?” John asked quietly.

“Out back.”

 

John rolled out of bed and headed out of the room with Lestrade and Sherlock on his heels. As he was entering the garage off the kitchen, he saw that Mansi and Delma were standing in the sitting room. He turned to them, “Leave. We will talk later.” John continued on to his destination. When he reached outside he saw the body of the fake Otaktay. Walking over to the body and head he lit it on fire with a thought, letting it burn as hot as he could get it so that nothing was left but ash.

“Well that can come in handy. I guess you weren’t kidding about those abilities huh?” Lestrade joked. John extinguished the flames and shook his head no. “For obvious reasons some of my abilities I can't demonstrate just yet. They only surface when needed.”

“So question, if your judge power kicks in on it’s own whenever someone who deserves to be tried comes around, how come the opportunity to judge Moriarty has yet to come up?”

Before John could answer Otaktay did from behind them. “Because he two has aligned himself with the dark fae. He is saturated in their power. He doesn’t register for whatever reason.”

“So how exactly am I supposed to take him out? He basically untouchable.”

A new voice offered their opinion. “That is why we need to collaborate with others to diminish his army. The sooner we start, the better.”

“Uh, who’s this?” Lestrade asked as he took in the newcomers appearance. She was absolutely stunning. Dressed professionally in a flattering cut pants suit in charcoal grey.

“Detective Inspector Lestrade. Nice of you to join us and give us a chance to recruit you to our cause. I am called Rayne.”

“And why are you here Rayne?” Sherlock asked before John could.

“Why? I heard there had been an attempt made on John. Oh relax John. You have enough problems,” her gaze slid to Otaktay before continuing, “without borrowing more from my corner. I’ve told you, we all have our gifts.”

“Wait a minute!” Lestrade abruptly interrupted. “Our cause?”

“Why yes Lestrade. I am a vampire. The oldest currently around.”

Lestrade said nothing more but stood back and watched the group as Sherlock and Otaktay explained again what had happened to John, only this time to Rayne. Lestrade couldn't keep his eyes from Rayne he repeatedly found himself looking at her. She was exquisite. And her unusual eyes were what drew him back. They were pitch black and perfectly framed with long lashes. And her lips,...okay, so there were several things that kept him looking to her, but she had admitted to being a vampire. Nothing to be had there. But why couldn’t he detect her as such like he could with other vampires?

 

“So what will it be Greg? Will you help us?”

Lestrade looked at Rayne and thought about the question she just asked him. He’d already made up his mind to help after seeing John attacked and hearing the explanation for it. But this beautiful creature was now asking for his help, how could he say no?

“Of course. I will have to speak to my people and get them all on board, but nonetheless, I’d be happy to help.”

“Lovely.” Rayne purred in response.

John walked over to Lestrade and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. Will you also accept a seat on the council?” The only person to seem surprised by the offer was Lestrade himself.

“What? Are you kidding me?” John shook his head. “Well, what would it consist of? I mean, I am human, have a regular job on top of hunting. And I don’t have an independently wealthy partner.”

“I understand all of this. I wouldn't ask you to put your civilian life second to be on the council. I’m not sure of all the dynamics just yet, but I know I want you on my team. And not just because you could possibly bring two hundred and forty odd people with you.” John smiled to let Lestrade know he was completely joking, trying to lighten the mood.

“Alright. I’ll do it. But if it gets to be too much for me I will let you know.”


	28. Privacy and Speculation

John had noticed the way Rayne had glanced at Otaktay when she said he had enough problems. He wondered what could possibly be on the horizon for them now. He had also noticed Lestrade seemed to be keen on Rayne; considering how the D.I. felt about vampires he wondered how he was dealing with it.

But Rayne had been right about one thing, the sooner they established alliances with those needed, the sooner they could go on the offense.

 

The group was currently still in the backyard when Liam and Mycroft appeared. John notice right off that Liam’s eyes were red rimmed and a bit swollen as if maybe he had been crying, it set his hackles up. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to notice Sherlock was looking in his direction as well, also looking like he was ready to bust someone's head in.

_Stand down boys. I’m fine. Just had a small domestic. Nothing serious._

_You sure? I don’t mind knocking some sense into Mycroft._ This from Sherlock.

_No boo. Thank you for the offer though._

John looked away from Liam just in time to see Mycroft glaring at them.

 

“Okay everyone! I’m not sure how I did it, but I'm pleased to announce the light fae have agreed to align with us.” Liam was trying to sound extra chipper to offset the look of sadness in his eyes. “And by your presence here at home base, might I assume Lestrade you too have decided to pool your people and aide us?” Liam looked quickly too Rayne and back at Lestrade.

“Yup. Only problem is my people have not witnessed everything I have and may not be as easily persuaded to help.”

“Wait, what’s happened. I can’t believe I’m just now noticing all the blood on you three, the pile of ash, and the lack of Delma and Mansi.”

A small cyclone of wind swept through blowing the ash away, leaving no trace of the human.

Otaktay stepped forward. “I will debrief you and Mycroft. I imagine Lestrade would like to get home and clean up as well as John and Sherlock.” The present council members all turned and looked at John and Sherlock. “ _Just_ to clean up.” Otaktay added with a slight upturning or his mouth.

“Did you- did you just crack a joke?” Sherlock asked.

“No. I simply suggested that you two _only_ shower.” This time there was a more pronounced upturning of the corner of his mouth.

John grabbed Sherlock’s hand smiling and stated simply, “We’ll try.”

 

Once they were in the room John and Sherlock faced each other smiling. “Was it just me, or was there a lot of undertones and not so covert glances? Like what was up with Rayne telling me I have enough problems and looking at Otaktay?” John asked rhetorically as he began undressing.

“Or how about the way Liam looked between Rayne and Lestrade? It just struck me as odd like there is something more there.” Sherlock chimed in.

“Yeah I noticed they keep looking at one another. Maybe Liam should play matchmaker again.”

“Again, who did he match up that we know?”

“Us you git.” John stated as he pulled Sherlock against his naked body.

“Us? Psh! We were already well on our way to becoming an item. You were besotted with me from the start. I was just waiting for you to realize it.” Sherlock lowered his head intent on kissing John, but John playfully shoved him away.

“Pardon? If I’m not mistaken, you were the one following me around like a lost pup.”

Sherlock pretended to be offended, holding a hand to his chest. He used his super speed to grab a rag from the bathroom and rushing back out to the room, taking the slightly wet rag, twisting it and snapping John on the arse with it.

John yelped rubbing his bum. “Ouch! Sherlock! You dickhead!” Sherlock laughed and John couldn’t help but join in.

After they caught their breaths John started after Sherlock, he stood his ground at first, and then when John was a mere scant inches away he used his super speed. “You bloody cheat. Stay still!”

Sherlock stood still and let John approach him. He had a feeling he had a big goofy grin planted on his face.

John got his hands fisted in Sherlock’s shirt. “Stay still you idiot.”

Sherlock was mesmerized by how low John's voice had gotten, sending a wave of desire through him. John was unbuttoning his shirt. “Sorry your shirt got ruined.” John whispered.

“Sorry your day got ruined.” Sherlock said back, his voice also dipping into his lower range, when it sounded like a growl was just a word away.

John pulled the shirt from Sherlock, looking into his eyes he replied, “Luckily, you have the power to make it all blinding.” John dragged Sherlock’s mouth down to his. Slowly kissing the taller man, working his tongue past his lips. John moaned quietly. “I say we’re off to a good start.” John was kissing along Sherlock’s clavicle while he undid his trousers. There was a quiet knock at the door.

John breathed through Sherlock’s mind, _Nope, not happening._

“Open the door Sherlock. We need to talk. Now.” It was Mycroft. John and Sherlock sighed heavily and in unison. John grabbed a dressing gown and threw it to Sherlock.

“What about you? You’re the one actually naked.” “I’m going to go get started.” John walked to the bathroom. Sherlock waited for the water to come on before shrugging into the dressing gown and opening the door for Mycroft.

 

“Yes Mycroft? How can I help you ruin my life today?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic Sherlock. If I’m ruining anyone's life it’s John’s. Which brings me to my purpose. I regret to inform you that Liam will not be taking the advisor position. If you need advice you will have to get it from Otaktay.”

Sherlock raised a brow at Mycroft’s words. “And is Liam aware of this development?” Sherlock asked.

“Of course he is.”

“You know you have nothing to worry about. And I assure you that you don’t have to worry about John either.”

“Oh? Who said that was the reasoning for Liam not taking the position?”

“You didn’t have to; but I wanted you to know all the same, you needn’t worry about either of us.”

“You mean like you have nothing to worry about Otaktay?” Mycroft shot back with a thin lipped smirk.

“What do you mean by that?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh nothing. Goodnight Sherlock.” Mycroft disappeared.

Sherlock closed the door back. He hated when Mycroft disappeared before he was done with the conversation. But that was Mycroft. You couldn’t make him speak about anything he didn’t want to.

 

Sherlock undressed and debated on rather he should tell John now about what Mycroft said, adding it to the list of why today was a shit day, or tell him after they’d showered and John was in a considerably better mood.

 

When Sherlock entered the bathroom he was surprised; pleasantly so. The lights were out and there was candles lit and lined up on the counter, John had ran a bath and was currently soaking in it. His head was leaned back against the lip of the tub and his eyes were shut. He looked completely at peace. Sherlock would hate to disturb him. He got so little time to himself now days and peaceful times were definitely almost non existent.

Sherlock leaned against the door frame watching a peaceful John. He kept finding himself wondering, why John? Every time they thought they might catch a break, WHAM!! Everything goes to the pot. John was one of the strongest individuals he had ever met. He never let anything get him down for long. He truly was amazing.

 

“Are you just going to stand there ogling me, or are you going to join me?”

Sherlock licked his lips. “I suppose I can join you.” he responded in a nonchalant tone that brought a smile to John’s face. His eyes remained close as he lifted a wet hand out of the water and beckoned Sherlock to him. Sherlock slid into the water, relaxing his back against John’s chest.

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and kissed him atop his head, Sherlock's curls tickling his nose.

“I love it when you don't that.”

“Do what exactly?” John asked as he bent and placed a second kiss atop Sherlock’s head.

“That.”

“Oh. Well I must stop doing it at once.”

Sherlock chuckled.

“What did Mycroft want?” John was lazily stroking Sherlock beneath the water, making it a bit difficult for Sherlock to think clearly.

“It’ll most likely upset you. Do you want- mmm…”

“Sherlock?” John prompted Sherlock to finish speaking, and despite the shadow of impending bad news John still had a smile in his voice.

“Mmm...uhh...do you want to discuss it- it now? Or...dear god you are going to have to stop if you want me to talk.” Sherlock pouted.

John placed a kiss in the space between Sherlock's neck and shoulder. “So you want me to stop?” John teased.

“Goodness no.”

John bit down lightly in the same space, running his tongue over it afterward, sucking gently on the skin. “As I remember, you said you had plans for me.”

Sherlock disengaged from John’s sensual embrace; turning to face him, he straddled John's hips.”I believe you are correct.” Sherlock kissed John keeping to the same slow pace. “But seeing how our house has already turned into a circus ahead of schedule, we may need to hurry.” Sherlock turned his attention to John’s own neck, biting down hard and sucking. John moaned quietly. Sherlock smiled, “That’s a good boy. Be as quiet as you can.”

 

Sherlock rose up on his knees, rubbing his erection against John’s chest, creating a delicious friction in the most needed place. Reaching behind his back he grasped John’s cock in his hand, stroking as John took advantage of the position to nibble along Sherlock’s neck. John took further advantage by sliding two finger achingly slow into Sherlock.

John slowly worked his fingers in and out of him, stretching him, rubbing over and around his prostate; driving him mad with want. Sherlock’s hand was no longer as steady or sure on John, his hand kept faltering. With his free hand John forcibly pulled Sherlock’s mouth down to meet his in a desperate kiss. Their quiet moans mixed with the gentle splashing of the water.

 

Sherlock broke the kiss. “Now John.” he begged in a ragged whisper.

John lined himself up with Sherlock’s entrance, placing one hand on the other man’s hip, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, savoring the feel of Sherlock as he slowly lowered himself over John’s length. Both men groaned as John bottomed out. Sherlock clenched and unclenched his hands on John’s shoulder, his eye firmly shut as well.

John adjusted his position so that it was a more comfortable position for Sherlock. Sherlock whined quietly, he began to move his hips in a lopsided figure 8, he bit his bottom lip to keep from moaning.

“Christ Sherlock...mmm.”

“Shh.” Sherlock admonished quietly, he took John’s mouth in a rush, both men moaning with the building pressure.

The waters in the bath splashed around them loudly, landing over the sides. “Sherlock, you’re going to make me come too quickly.”

Sherlock opened his eyes and met John’s fiery brown ones, “That’s the point love.” There was a devilish glint to his eyes that sped John's heart rate even further.

Sherlock rose up on his knees again, working himself down on John’s cock shallowly; the head rubbing over his prostate in just the right way. He threw his head back letting out a moan so loud John was sure everyone would hear.

“John...I’m so close mon cœur...mmm...aagh.”

“Not...yet...Sher-...not-”

Sherlock erupted, coating John’s chest with his cum; striking quick he bit John in the neck sucking hard as he rolled his hips down into John. John’s hands spasmed on Sherlock’s hips. Involuntarily he thrust up into him, once, twice and he was seeing stars.

John emptied himself into Sherlock as the vampire licked the wound in his neck closed. As soon as he had, John captured his mouth, thrusting his tongue in just as hungrily as he had with his body, tasting his blood on Sherlock’s tongue.

After a few moments the kiss became less hungry and much slower, more savoring one another. Sherlock pulled away, leaning his head against John’s both a little breathless. “I guess we should actually get cleaned up now.” Sherlock suggested. John kissed him quickly in response; gently pulling out of Sherlock as he rose up. Sherlock helped John to his feet.

 

The men made quick work of washing up and getting dressed. When they exited the room Otaktay was sitting on the couch looking a bit lost. It was unusual to him as anything but cock sure of himself. John and Sherlock looked at one another, both wondering if they should interrupt the man.

 

“Are you all right?” Sherlock finally asked.

Otaktay looked up at them like he had completely forgotten where he was. He didn’t say anything.

“Otaktay?” John prompted.

“Can I use your spare room tonight?”

“Sure. Will Luisa be joining you?” John asked.

Otaktay shook his head and stood heading for the spare room.

 

Sherlock and John looked at one another baffled. They walked outside, no one was there. So it was just the three of them here, and still rather early. John pulled out his mobile phone and called Lestrade.

“Lestrade.” he answered.

“Hey, just checking that you got home safely.”

“Yes. Rayne escorted me home. Hey John,”

“Hmm?”

“I am really relieved you are okay. I'll start talking to my people tonight; I'll have to do it in small groups, so it will take me several days to speak to everyone and hopefully get them all on board.”

“Thank you Lestrade. For whatever you manage. For even trying.”

“Course. I’ll be in touch, be careful.”

“You too.”

The men hung up the phone.

 

The men had walked back into the house, John sat down in his seat in the sitting room, before Sherlock could take his own, John pulled him down onto his lap. “Okay. The reason I told Mansi and Delma I didn’t want their services is because they don’t trust you.”

“And?”

“I felt that was bad judgement on their part-”

“And?”

“That’s the short of it Sherlock and I won’t go into anymore details.”

Sherlock was quiet for several moments. “But you’ve changed your mind.” It wasn’t a question.

“Correct.” John had stopped trying to figure out how Sherlock figured out some of the things he did. His answer was usually the same when he asked, ‘Simple, I observe John.’

“I took into consideration that they never once let on to their dislike of you before, they still did their job, and even after I fired them. I believe I _can_ trust them to do their jobs and not allow their personal feelings to get in the way.”

“Agreed. You heard Otaktay say I got a power boost by taking this position, I think it is safe to assume you did as well.”

“A lot of good that did me.”

Sherlock cupped John’s face, “Don’t. You know this whole power and magic shite has never been simple or easy. You probably need to gain access to new power or some other crap.”

“You accessed yours no problem.” John sneered the word 'accessed'.

“I let my fear get the best of me John. Whenever I do, my power flows easily; but it always seems at a cost to you. I can’t keep doing that.”  

“We both have things we need to work on.” John turned and placed a kiss in Sherlock’s palm.

 

“Have you noticed we only seem to have sex in the bathroom?”

Sherlock laughed and patted John’s cheek. “Because it’s the only place we can get any bloody privacy.” Sherlock got off John’s lap, extending a hand and pulling him to his feet. “Come along mon cœur, let me feed you.”


	29. New Allies, New Problems

The next day John and Sherlock was relaxing after breakfast. Sherlock was in his room at his desk speaking with a contractor; and John was in his room staring at his laptop. On the screen was his blog, he hadn’t written anything since the night he’d gone to Angelo’s with Sherlock. It seemed like ages ago.

The counter at the top stated he had two hundred and ninety-four followers. That was roughly two hundred and thirty-four new followers since his last post. He wasn’t sure if it was simply coincidence that his new followers amounted to the same number of active vampire hunters in London. His blog hits had gone up tremendously as well, his blog had never been popular to say the least, and the increase in activity still wasn’t what most would consider busy, but it was something to him. As he sat staring at his screen, wanting to write a new post, but unable to figure out where to start a instant message popped up on the screen.

 

**Raíña da Luz: We should meet.**

**John Watson: Who is this?**

**RdL: As of right now, an ally.**

**JW: Was that a threat?**

**RdL: No.**

**JW: Okay then. Do you mean an ally in the upcoming war?**

**RdL: Yes.**

**JW: When would you like to meet?**

**RdL: Now. I’m in your sitting room.**

 

_Sherlock. Come quickly, meet me in the sitting room, we have a guest, they say they are an ally. And before you ask, no, I don't know who they are or how they got in._

 

Sherlock and John entered their sitting room at the same time looking from one to the other. Glancing around the room they didn’t see anyone; so they walked fully into the room. The men still didn’t see anyone. John was beginning to wonder if this was some sort of joke.

“Dr. Watson. Mr.Holmes."

The men looked around again. The voice sounded as if the person should be right there in the room with them.

“Sherlock, are ghost real too?” John asked, still cautiously looking around.

“Course.” John looked at Sherlock with shock, he’d only been joking when he’d asked.

“I’m not a bloody ghost.” Came the voice again.

John and Sherlock both walked to their chairs standing a moment before sitting, giving the disembodied voice a chance to tell them not to sit. They might as well sit down if they were to have a conversation with a _voice_.

They saw a flash of light on their couch and when the light dimmed a woman was sitting there.

She was beautiful, like every person that John seemed to meet lately. She was an odd conglomeration of features that came together in a beautiful way. Her hair was a thick riot of long tight curls the color or rust, her eyes were a slanted almond shape, and a little on the large side, the color of honey. She had high cheekbones that would give Otaktay a run for his money. Her skin was flawless save for the freckles that covered her olive toned skin. Her ethnicity was impossible to figure out. She was very petite, even shorter than Rayne and very slim.

Sherlock frowned and John looked thoughtful.

“You’re fae.” John stated.

“Yes. The queen of the light fae.”

“Madam it is lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise John, you are a gem.”

Sherlock inclined his head to her, she smiled in response.

 

“I must be honest. The only reasons I agreed to this was because both of your reputations preceded you, and also the impending war. But had it been only one of you asking for help and the war I would have took my chances alone. Sending the halfbreed didn't hurt or help your cause. But it did put him in danger, just a forewarning he may want to lay low.”

This reminded John that Sherlock had never told him what Mycroft had said. “No disrespect, but you said our reputations preceded us and had it not been the both of us you would have turned Liam down; so what exactly is the nature of your visit?”

“Just to be able to see for myself the men who will unite all our races and free us from Moriarty’s rule.”

“From Moriarty’s rule? Last I’ve checked he didn’t rule anything.” Sherlock said with just a smidge of animosity.

“You’ve been too busy to notice Sherlock, but Moriarty has small factions of vampires, dark fae and humans doing his dirty work.  The're spread out all over and the bad parts of London have gotten worst, and the good parts are now leaning towards bad. An intervention needs to be had. And hopefully before his foothold in London is too great for us to do anything about it.”

“Is there anything you can do to aid us in gaining the alliances we need so that we can move this along?”

“I'm afraid not. But you can definitely go on the offensive now, you don’t have to wait until everyone is in place. That is what most people do. You need the element of surprise. Do something that no one, including yourself would expect.” Sherlock and John looked at one another. They understood the genius of what she was saying.

“Well gentlemen. I will be on my way. You two have a war to plan and a friend in need. Deuces.” The fae queen disappeared in a flash of light before either of them could respond.

“She’s right you know. We could start now. You have the power to walk into any of his hangouts and start judging his people. And I could make sure no one leaves until you’re done.”

“That’s all fine and dandy but two things Sherlock. One, we don’t know where any of Moriarty's hideouts are. Two, what if they are protected by dark fae magic as well?”

“You can cleanse them of the dark magic and then you can judge them.” Otaktay stated quietly from the doorway. John turned to look at him and jumped to his feet. Otaktay looked awful. John and Sherlock went to him, flanking both sides. “Are you okay?” Sherlock asked, real concern in his voice.

“I do not know.”

John and Sherlock helped Otaktay over to the couch, helping him to sit down. Still flanking him they sat down as well, watching as the Lakota medicine man closed his eyes and laid his head back against the couch. John looked across to Sherlock, Sherlock shrugged. Laying a hand on Otaktay’s knee, John asked, “What seems to be bothering you? What are your symptoms?” Otaktay flinched at the contact and weakly brushed John’s hand from his knee.

“Did I hurt you mate?”

“No.”

 

Sherlock and John were at a lost for words, they had no clue what was wrong with Otaktay and he was acting odd to boot.

_Sherlock, I'm and going to try to do to him what I did to you._

Sherlock raised his brow at John. _Forgive me if all that comes to mind is how good a bloody shag you are. And that better not be what you have in mind for our friend here._

Mentally John chuckled. _No you idiot. The thing with magic. I’m going to call it to me and try and use it or have him use it to heal himself. I don’t know what is wrong with him but I have a feeling it is based in magic. I wanted to let you know what I was doing in case things go wrong._

Sherlock reached across Otaktay, cupping John’s face he kissed him briefly. _You got this. Stop doubting yourself. But hold my hand that seems to boost your power._ Sherlock pulled away, taking John’s hand. He looked at Otaktay and was slightly embarrassed to see the man was watching them.

 

Sherlock turned back to John and saw he still had his eyes closed. _Ready?_

 _Ready._ John concentrated on the world around him, trying his best to filter out Sherlock and how weak Otaktay felt. He barely registered as John searched out the magic around him. Taking a deep breath he concentrated even harder, feeling small trendels of magic flowing into him. He held his left hand over Otaktay’s lap not touching him. When his hand began throbbing cold and hot, John buckled down even harder, pulling a little power from Sherlock.

When he felt like he couldn’t hold anymore magic, like he was about to burst from it he placed his hand over Otaktay’s heart. Nothing happened. John opened his eyes looking down where his hand lay; he glowed with the magic that currently filled him but it refused to flow into Otaktay. John looked over to Sherlock. Sherlock again shrugged.

_Otaktay usually sings when he heals you. Maybe you should sing._

_I don’t know what the words are!_ John argued.

 _Maybe he is too weak, maybe you will have to ‘feed’ the magic to him._ Sherlock suggested.

John looked at Sherlock a bit bewildered at the suggestion. Sherlock stared at him in silence.

John closed his eyes again he wasn’t sure as usual how to go about this, so he went with what seemed most logical or felt right to him. He couldn't very well actually force ‘feed’ Otaktay magic. So John picture himself as a spectre, or as only his aura, he’d read about that somewhere, he pictured himself cradling the magic in his arms and fading into Otaktay. As a doctor the first thing he pictured himself doing was checking his vitals. John placed a bit of magic in his bloodstream and around his heart and lungs, watching as the magic attacked spots of darkness. Next he imagined he spread more magic around Otaktay’s brain, the man seemed to be having trouble speaking and interacting; rather it was from weakness or this darkness attacking his brain, John didn’t know. While John examined Otaktay’s mind, making sure the magic found all the bits of darkness, he got flashes of thought from him, and the things he heard surprised John. He decided he should probably move along; so lastly, with the last bit of magic he welded, John imagined it flooding Otaktay's body, touching every corner of his body, including his soul; flooding it with the healing light of the magic.

 

John fell back against the couch, suddenly exhausted.

Sherlock was still holding his hand steadfast, even though doing so now had him draped across Otaktay’s lap. He kept his eyes on John; he could feel his exhaustion and not to mention John had begun to siphon power from him. He didn’t know John was able to do that. In fact, he wondered if John knew he could do that. Sure they’d shared power, giving it to one another, but never had they _taken_ it from the other. _Are you okay John?_ John hadn't opened his eyes yet, to say Sherlock was worried was an understatement.

John opened his eyes slowly, blinking as if against a bright light. He looked first to Sherlock and then to Otaktay.

Sherlock looked too. He felt awful that he hadn't’ checked on him. His only concern had been John. Otaktay looked one hundred percent better.

John closed his eyes back, trying to let go of Sherlock’s hand. He didn't like seeing him leaned over Otaktay like that. But Sherlock continued to hold on to his hand, relocating instead to sit beside John instead of opposite him. John just sighed and leaned into Sherlock, giving in. “I’m fine Sherlock.” John spoke quietly. “Otaktay?”

Sherlock looked over at the man again. Otaktay was staring at them in a weird manner, but he seemed to be okay.

“I’m- I’m fine John. Thank you.” Otaktay was looking at John as if he had two heads. Sherlock wouldn't dare mention it because he knew it would upset his sensitive doctor.

“I'm...ti-tired.” John yawned, “Take me...help me to bed...ple-” another yawn from John. “Please.” Sherlock was already rising with a nearly sleep John in his arms by time John got out his request. He looked down at Otaktay again, making sure he still seemed better, the Indian nodded at him. Sherlock took that to mean he was fine and for him to fulfil John’s request.

 

Hours later John sat up stretching. Sherlock was lying on the bed next to him. John laid back down, his head against Sherlock’s biceps, he wrapped his arm around Sherlock’s waist.

Sherlock wasn't asleep, he smiled at the contact and placed a kiss to the top of John’s head. “Better?” he asked, voice dipping low.

“Yes, thank you. How's the patient?”

Sherlock smiled, “A patient no more. He’s fine, left. Said he’ll be back later.”

John and Sherlock lay in silence, enjoying the peace of the moment.

 

“Sherlock.” John said after a bit.

“Hmm?”

“I feel like by me telling you this, I am betraying Otaktay, but I also feel like you need to know.”

Sherlock shifted a bit so he could see John’s face.

“What?”

“While I was ins- healing Otaktay I was able to hear some of his thoughts.”

“Go on.”

“He has been a bit odd lately, yes?”

“No more than usual I would say.” Sherlock prompted.

Sighing John continued, “Okay I’m not sure how to even say this. Um, Otaktay is having a hard time because he has suddenly found himself attracted to the two of us. No pun intended.”

Sherlock mouth floundered for several heartbeats before responding. “What? He’s having a hard time? I don’t even know where to begin. The both of us? What?”

John couldn’t help but smile. “When I was in his mind, repairing not snooping, he was very concerned about his sudden attraction to you _and_ I. His thoughts were very chaotic but that one thought came through loud and clear. From what I can gather he’s never been attracted to men before and that along with the fact that he feels it was sudden like a switch being flipped has him really freaked out.”

Sherlock seemed to relax a bit. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it?”

“Well I have nothing to be concerned about what does it matter?”

“You arrogant sod.” John sat up staring at Sherlock. “For one he is afraid it may have been magic induced. So who’s to say someone else can’t become affected by it. And two, you think you’re so great I wouldn’t contemplate leaving?”

Sherlock quickly fought down panic. John loved him. He stuck with him willingly. He wouldn’t go anywhere. Sherlock responded in his usual manner, slightly dismissive and be laying none of the actual emotions churning through him.  “No John, I think you love me in spite of me being a sodding mess and that in itself proves you won’t go anywhere.”

John wasn’t sure why he felt angry all of a sudden with Sherlock. His comment had been typical and had never set John off before. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to reach over and run his fingers through Sherlock’s lovely curls, but his anger wouldn’t allow him, it sat in his gut like a stone; weighing him down. Instead John scrambled off the bed grabbing his mobile phone from the side table and stormed out the room.

Sherlock sat there in shocked silence. It was unlike John to act so irrationally. Sure he had a temper, but he was always rational. Sherlock felt uncharacteristically sad. He reached a hand up to his face, he was dismayed to find he was crying. He hardly ever cried now thanks to Moriarty and the many years of his sick conditioning. But it was like upon realizing that he was crying a dam opened up inside and he began crying unabashed and uncontrollably.

 

John was in the kitchen on the phone with Lestrade. “Well I'm bloody going regardless. You and nobody else has the right to try to stop me. Now, if you would just give me the info needed, I'll be out of your hair. I’m not yelling and I’m not angry! Yea? Is that right? Thanks for nothing!” John hung up the phone. He wished he could have slammed the phone down but unfortunately he was on his mobile and not a land line.

In the back of his mind John realized he was acting a bit irrationally. He felt hot with anger. Where was this anger coming from? He yelled at Lestrade for literally no reason. And Sherlock.

 

John headed back to the room to discuss his plan of action with Sherlock. What he walked in on however melted the fist of anger that had gripped his heart. Sherlock lay in the fetal position, curled up around his pillow bawling. John clambered onto the bed pulling the weeping man into his arms. “Sherlock. Sherlock, I’m so sorry I was being a right bellend." Sherlock didn't respond. "To be honest, I’m feeling rather dodgy since waking up. But I _am_ sorry Sherlock.” After roughly ten more minutes of non-stop crying John became very worried. This wasn’t at all like Sherlock, he was ordinarily very put together. He wasn’t emotionless, but he was usually more low key than this. John didn’t want to call Otaktay because he didn’t want to cause him any grief with his own issues.

John absently rocked and sang bits and pieces of songs as he thought of a cause and solution to their current problem. John couldn’t think of anything, his shirt was soaked and Sherlock seemed to have downgraded to the sniffles. John decided to look inward. Starting with Sherlock first.

_Sherlock, baby I'm sorry. I think something is wrong with all of us. I am going search inside you and then myself. Everything is going to be all right, I'm going to fix this._

 

John relaxed, going through the same process as he had earlier with Otaktay. On the surface everything seemed fine, John dug deeper, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right about their situation. He imagined he was looking through a microscope and seeing Sherlock on a cellular level. He found it! Hiding in Sherlock’s blood; since he was a vampire and had just cried out a great deal of the blood in his body, there wasn’t much to look at and investigate with. There were dark patches present in his blood just like Otaktay. John left them alone and mentally rushed to Sherlock’s brain. If Sherlock just spent most of the blood in his body and in a sense expelling the dark patches of malevolent magic why was he still acting the same? There had to be another cause. John knew almost nothing about the brain on a cellular level so he wasn’t sure how he was going to detect something wrong.

As it turned out he didn’t need that knowledge. When John rounded on the right temporal lobe, there was a small dark spot. John knew that small infinitesimal speck couldn’t be all of what was causing this. He looked past the outside and into the inner cerebrum and saw that limbic system was covered in darkness. Sherlock’s hypothalamus, thalamus and amygdala were completely compromised.

 

John was torn. When he’d healed Otaktay it had put him on his arse for several hours after. And he suspected that both he and Sherlock would need healing. But he didn’t want to leave Sherlock in this condition. Choices and decisions were so hard lately. But this is what his life had become. So he made a decision and he stood by it.

Closing his eyes he went back into Sherlock, working at his limbic system first, it had the most damage and probably the most crucial to his wellbeing. When he was done with the brain, John felt weak and like he would pass out at any moment, but he still had work to do.

Forcibly, he made his way down to the heart, he set up shop, waiting. He wasn’t sure if he had enough magic to clean the blood of the dark effects, so he figured all blood made it’s way through the heart. John waited for a bit, nothing was happening. John was so sluggish he'd forgotten yet again that Sherlock was a vampire and his heart didn’t beat; therefore the blood wouldn't be making it's way to the heart.

John would need to go after each dark spot separately or send the magic out through Sherlock’s body as he had with Otaktay, and hope that it would be enough to heal his vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter? Bah Humbug.


	30. At Odds

John woke up to a glaring Sherlock and Otaktay. He tried to sit up but was forced back down by Sherlock.

“What were you thinking? You had just healed Otaktay hours before and it took everything out of you, and then you wake up and think it’s a good ideal to heal me too?”

John started to speak when Otaktay went in on him.

“No John. Sherlock is  right. You may not be able to be killed by other people but apparently you can kill yourself. You stopped breathing twice. You scared 100 years off of Sherlock and maybe 10 from me. You can't do things like this. Not yet. We need to figure out the extent of your limits first.”

John and Sherlock both stared at Otaktay, that was the most he had spoken at one time since they had met him. Not to mention he had never raised his voice or tone in anger, he was always gently censoring.

John thought about what he had overheard in Otaktay’s mind, if he truly cared about John and Sherlock as he thought he did it would be enough to snap him out of the usual behavior. Especially if John had had another close call. He looked up at Sherlock, hoping his heart was in his eyes. “I’m sorry Sherlock. You don’t know how sorry I am. I also need to apologize to Greg.”

“Who?”

“Lestrade.”

“Oh.”

“So, do you have any idea how we all might have gotten infected?” John asked reaching for Sherlock’s hand.

“My money's on the Fae queen. It wasn’t until she showed up that we all went wonky.” Sherlock shared.

“I do not think it was her. I have seen this type of magic before, many years ago. It is truly some of the darkest magic I’ve seen and the light Queen wouldn’t use that type of magic, even on an enemy.”

“But she was the last person here that was an unknown.” John argued.

“Yes. But even if we can't trust her, it wouldn’t be because of this. I believe the dark magic infection started with me and then spread to you John and then to Sherlock.”

“And how would something like that happen?”

“My medicine pouch went missing. And for a lot of stronger magic you need personal items of the person you are targeting. I have no clue how the dark fae would have gotten their hands on my pouch, it is always on my hip. Either way, I believe they got a hold of it, conducted the spell, the spell was then cast on me, and it was suppose to kill me, but because I am also a skinwalker it took the spell longer to work through my system. It’s also why it didn’t manifest right away resulting in me not realizing I was infected. I spread it to John when I came to help heal him after my evil doppelganger tried to kill him. And I am assuming Sherlock you fed from John when you two were alone, and that’s how you got infected.”

“Okaaay, but if that is how this all went down why did it move through our systems much faster than yours? We are much more than human also.”

Otaktay looked uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Well skinwalkers are typically considered to be evil." He paused as if he expected them to say something or react negatively, "That is why it took longer to work through me than you two.”

“But, no offense Sherlock, aren’t vampires considered inherently evil?” John asked.

“That’s where this all gets sticky. Have you ever heard of a tupla?” John shook his head. “It is a physical materialization of a thought, resulting in the creation of a being or object. Or in this case a belief. Nothing is good or bad until people as a whole label something as so. When skinwalkers were first discovered hundreds of years ago, the Indian people thought it was an omen or a curse. As a whole, skinwalkers were thought of as bad. But when vampires were first created, there was no vast knowledge of these beings, even now. Nothing concrete at least. The only real knowledge were by the vampires themselves and they recognized the fact that a person can be either good or evil; and sometimes both. Therefore nature recognizes skinwalkers as evil and vampires as neutral.”

“Yeah but society often see vampires portrayed as evil, bloodthirsty entities.” John argued further.

“Ture, but most people think of them only as fictional beings and not real. So they are not fueling the belief that vampires are evil.”

“So this is kind of like the whole clap if you believe in fairies deal?” John laughed.

“In laymen terms, yes.”

“Okay well none of that really matters, we need to heal John. And without any of us getting infected again. How do we do that?” Sherlock was looking at Otaktay.

"Only John can heal himself and close the cycle. If anyone else tries to heal him, that person will be infected.”

“But he isn’t strong enough to heal himself so soon after healing me. He was only out roughly 30 minutes.”

Otaktay was silent for several moments and then said, “I have been observing him, look how well John's doing. After me he was out for hours like you said. I believe he’s getting stronger. Almost like every obstacle thrown at him strengthens him. I think he can do it Sherlock. How do you feel John?”

John looked up at Sherlock, staring him in the eyes. “Honestly I feel fine, normal. I don’t even feel drained like I usually do.”

Sherlock was worried. John’s well being was his utmost concern. And in this case it was double edged. John needed to be healed to be okay but he was also the only one who could do it, placing him in danger. “John, maybe we should try another way of-”

“No dammit! I can do this! Stop always trying to tell me what to bloody do. Otaktay believes in me, why can’t you?” John screamed this at Sherlock, his face turning red and his breathing ragged.

Sherlock looked crushed; he placed a hand hesitantly on John’s forearm. “I do believe in you, but I also love you and want you safe.”

John looked as though he was struggling to get his temper under control. “I _need_ to do this.” he hissed.

Sherlock nodded once and walked out of the room closing the door behind him.

 

“John. I know you didn’t mean to treat Sherlock like that, but I can’t help but think you need to apologize to him.”

“Why do you care?” John sneered. “You just want to fuck us. And if Sherlock is mad at me and out of the way, at least you stand a shot at shagging me, right?”

Otaktay looked shocked and wounded. “That isn’t true.” Otaktay denied. “I don’t think that little of either of you.” Otaktay stood up, back straight, “Heal yourself, and make this right John Watson. Not all words can be taken back, some take root and grow, festering in the heart.” Otaktay turned and walked out, leaving John alone to his healing.

 

Out in the sitting room Otaktay sat next to Sherlock on the couch. Sherlock was on the phone and writing down some information in a notepad. “Thanks Graham. _Greg_? Yeah,  that’s what I said. Thank you Greg.” Sherlock hung up the phone and turned to look at Otaktay.

Otaktay awkwardly clapped Sherlock on his back trying to offer the other man comfort.

“I know he didn’t mean it Otaktay. I’m okay, but thank you.”

“He really can do it.”

“I know. John can do anything. But I don't want to lose him in the process.”

“He will survive.”

“How do you know? His heart stopped the last time remember?”

“He has this Sherlock. We have to let him do it.”

“When did it become we?" Sherlock mused under his breath. Louder he said, "He doesn’t have to worry, I won’t interfere.” 

The men sat back against the couch, strong and silent in their solidarity while they waited for John to literally work his magic.

 

Roughly forty-five minutes later John emerged from the room, stumbling and looking waxen. Sherlock jumped to his feet to help John but stopped short, unsure if his help was wanted.

“Sherlock...please.” John’s voice was barely audible.

Sherlock rushed the rest of the way to John catching him before he fell, he helped him to his seat. John looked over to Otaktay. “I'm sorry for what I said in there. I shouldn’t have, and- and I’m sorry mate. I was being a first class arse.”

Otaktay placed a hand over his heart in response, reminiscent of when they had first met in person.

John then turned and looked at Sherlock who was sitting cross legged at his feet. He reached out a shaky hand and cupped Sherlock’s face. He didn’t say anything for several weighted moments. “I have no words to express the depth of my regret for the way I treated you, both minutes ago and earlier Sherlock. I should never treat someone I love and can’t live without in such a manner. I know you are my biggest supporter and I should never have doubted you. Please accept my words and my future actions as an apology and please, please forgive me Sherlock. I _am_ sorry.”

Sherlock had looked down at his lap, avoiding John’s intense gaze. He was hurt by John. And even though he knew John hadn’t meant it, it didn’t make it hurt any less. And of course now he secretly wondered if that was really how John felt, but needed the infection to speak for him. Sherlock didn’t respond to John, he looked over to Otaktay. “Why did the infection affect us all in different ways? It made me highly sensitive, John angry and you, what was wrong  with you?”

“Uncertain.”

“You’re uncertain or that was your affliction?” Sherlock asked trying to clarify.

“Affliction. I think the purpose of the infection was to magnify our worst traits or traits that are destructive. My uncertainty could lead to a mistake that could cost me my life or others theirs. John’s anger could lead to him saying or doing something rash, which could lead to his death and you Sherlock that beautiful sensitivity that you keep bottled up, could lead to depression and ultimately your death. Nothing wrong with being sensitive, just don’t let it go so far that sadness is all you see. You can be sensitive to the beauty around you. Or plenty of other positive things.” Otaktay looked at John who was staring down at Sherlock still. “John, I don’t think I need to caution you about your anger.” John shook his head no.

 

“I spoke to Lestrade, he gave me the location of two of Moriarty’s known hangouts.”

“What? He told me he didn’t have that information. Bloody bastard.”

“Apparently you were so rude to him he knew something wasn’t right. He wasn’t even sure if it was really you, so he gave you no information.”

"Yeah, bout that, still one more apology to be had." John stood up, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he needed most from Sherlock and the fact that he needed to still call Lestrade and apologize. Sherlock passed John his mobile phone. “I didn’t have his number so I used your phone to call him.” Sherlock explained.

 

John, Sherlock and Otaktay walked into a billiard hall called Queen’s Landing. It seemed pretty normal and standard but John could feel the pull of the damned, most here were despicable in their crimes, and others whose only major crime was aligning with Moriarty.

John stood in the middle of the room. There were twenty-five people present most of who paid the trio no mind. Of course two humans walking into a building full of vampires wouldn't go unnoticed.

Two female vampires approached John an Otaktay. One wrapped her arm around Otaktay pulling him close against her body; Otaktay played along as if he had been successfully glamoured.

John watched as the vampire danced around Otaktay. These two women were the first ones he had seen that weren't what he would consider drop dead beautiful. They looked like just average everyday women. The one next to him slipped her hand into his and whispered something in his ear. John felt the tingle of magic as the words washed over him and fell away uselessly. Sherlock had faded into the small crowd away from them and towards the entrance. The vampire with Otaktay was kissing him on his neck and fondling him through his pants. The one with John was nibbling on his ear. Once Sherlock was in position by the entrance Otaktay pushed the woman off of him and John allowed his judge power to flow through him, his eyes bled to white along with his body; both giving off a subtle light. John wrapped his arm around the female vampire that had been whispering in his ear preventing her from getting away. Next he held out his right hand preventing the woman that had been with Otaktay from moving away. “Otaktay, there are several humans tied up in the back. Get them." John turned his attention to the woman in his arms. “Janice, you have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death.” The vampire Janice eyes got huge realizing who she was being held by, she tried to get away but there was no breaking John’s hold. “Would you like to plead your case?” John asked as he let go of the squirming vampire. She didn’t try to run like most would have, she sank to her knees and began to cry, big buckets of tears. John cocked his head to the side almost as if he was listening to something.

Turning his back on Janice he faced the one that had been with Otaktay. “Lizbeth, you have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death. Would you like to plead your case?” The woman spat at John, it fell short missing it’s intended target. John looked the woman in the eyes as she burst into flames. The remaining vampires panicked at the sight of fire and the realization that the judge was amongst them. They rushed the entrance only to find Sherlock there, emanating so much power they dropped to their knees from the weight of it.

 

Otaktay returned with four humans, three women and one male. They were dazed and shaky, they also appeared to be malnourished. Otaktay led them over to a booth in the back out of the way of John and Sherlock’s work.

John turned back to Janice. “I have heard your plea and grant you a different sentence. You will be walled in for your crimes for six months. At the end of that period if I can not feel the same remorse from you that I feel now, you will die.”

“Thank you.” the woman sobbed. Otaktay came and lead her to the back where the humans were, putting himself between her and them.

 

John then faced the small crowd of vampires, “You have all been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death. Would any of you like to plead your case?” Two men and one woman were allowed to stand and approach John. John looked at each one, internally listening to their individual pleas. When he was done hearing them, the woman burst into flames. And the two men he addressed separately. “Charles. I have heard your plea and grant you a different sentence. I will carry it out when I am done here, go over there with the humans.” John faced the last man. “Thames. I have heard your plea and grant you a different sentence. I will give you a choice in your sentence, for yours is a unique case. You must choose between having your memory wiped and having a new memory and personality inserted or seven years of being walled in and upon your release you will have to work for the new council. Make your decision wisely. And you must understand, being walled in for such a long period of time can breed resentment, when your time is up, and if you have changed for the worst, you will be sentenced to death.” The man on the ground nodded his understanding, “I choose the seven years.” “Very well, wait over there.”

 

_Move Sherlock._

Sherlock went and stood with Otaktay and others. He watched as John started to glow even brighter, simultaneously the remaining vampires ignited.

John kept the doomed vampires in place with his power but he was unable to silence their cries. Janice began bawling in the corner adding her cries to theirs. John hurt inside. Such a lost of life. Why were people so stubborn, set in their ways and just so bloody horrible? These vampires were unrepentant of their crimes. They rather die than see where they went wrong and do better. But there was at least one small silver lining, four human lives were saved as well as three vampires.

Snapping his fingers the fire blew out. John sank to the floor in front of the pile of ashes, a tear running down his face. He wasn’t sure if he was cut out for this. It was too much. It hurt too much. Vaguely John felt arms around him, pulling him to his feet.

Otaktay guided John to an empty seat while Sherlock doctored the minds of the humans.

Finally John pulled himself together and approached the three vampires. “Janice and Thames, I hope you know I get no pleasure from this. I’m sorry your lives have been such that it lead you to this life.” Turning to Charles he addressed him next. “Charles; walk with me.”

 

When John and the vampire was on the other side of the room John allowed his judge power to take over, he looked the man in the eyes and said. “Charles, you are no longer haunted by the actions of your past. You are no longer dogged by your need for human blood. You only take what you need to survive and never harm those who cannot defend themselves. You will continue to work for Moriarty gathering information and storing it in your mind, hidden behind an impenetrable wall. When I call for you, you will come, making sure you are not followed. You will fill me in on all things dealing with the impending war and Moriarty himself. You will do all of this with no knowledge of who you are reporting to. You won’t remember me or the fact that you are a double agent. When we meet you won’t recall the meetings unless I allow it. Tonight, you left the hall earlier than expected, going out to feed. You aren’t aware of what happened here. When you are asked about it, it will be your first knowledge of tonight's incident. Go in peace Charles.”

Charles walked out of the building, not sparing any glances for anyone.

 

When John got back over to the small group John saw that Sherlock let the humans go, planting whatever false memories needed to protect them. “Sherlock, do you have some place we can hold Janice and Thames until we can carry out their sentence?”

Otaktay answered instead, “The council has a small jail that we can utilize.”

“Perfect. Let’s get out of here.”

“Um, John are you leaving the ash here?” Sherlock questioned, gesturing towards the huge pile.

“Yes. And I need your help with one more thing Sherlock. Can you send a wave of power through here erasing all surveillance?”

“I believe so, yes. But I would feel much more comfortable if you and Otaktay took the two of them outside.”

John smiled grimly. He knew the real reason Sherlock wanted him out of the building. Nonetheless he obliged Sherlock’s request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot! 81,000 words! And so much more to come in this story. Might be a bit slower coming with me trying to write a 50,000 story for NaNoWriMo.
> 
> XoXoX 
> 
> Thanks for reading my stories and any and all comments and feedback it is as always so appreciated!


	31. In the Midnight Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while...so happy to be back.   
> I'm a bit concerned with how this chapter will go over. Leave me a comment telling me what you think...unless it's a death threat...or how much you hate me and my fickle evil mind

John and Otaktay stood outside with the two vamps while Sherlock erased surveillance. John was looking at the ground lost in his own mind. He looked up abruptly, feeling as though someone was watching him. What he found was Otaktay staring at him. “What’s wrong?” John asked seeing the worry etched on his face.

“The feeling hasn’t gone away John.” Otaktay found it easier to talk to John, he always seemed more tolerant and accepting.

“What feeling, the self doubt, the uncertainty?”

“You were inside my head John.  _ That  _ hasn’t gone away.” Understanding dawned on John’s face. “I thought it was just part of all of this, but I’m beginning to think it is something else.” Otaktay further confided.

“Like what?” John was concerned for his new friend, he was fast learning anything dealing with magic was something to be cautious about.

Otaktay didn’t answer John he originally felt that out of the two of them John would be more understanding than Sherlock, but now, speaking out loud to John about his fear, he felt embarrassed. 

“Otaktay, wh-”

“Real. What if it’s real and not magic induced? What then?”

John could hear the fear in Otaktay’s voice. “Attraction fades away. If the attraction is real, eventually you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s not what I fear. I fear it being more than just an attraction. What then?”

John thought about what Otaktay was saying and not saying. “We'll figure it out, all of us.”

 

Sherlock exited the building, locking eyes with John as he approached. “It’s done. It’s also late, let’s get home. Otaktay can you drop them to the council’s location?”

Otaktay gave a curt nod of his head, opting for a nonverbal response.

“Will you be needing the spare room tonight?” Sherlock asked Otaktay.

“If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, and Luisa?”

Otaktay shook his head looking at the ground.

John placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Wanna talk about it mate?”

“Maybe, but now isn’t the time, we need to get off the streets.”

“Right you are. Meet you back at the house. Sherlock take me home please, that way Otaktay can use the vehicle.”

Sherlock gave a bow at the waist, “With pleasure.”

John smiled. Maybe Sherlock wasn’t so mad afterall. 

Sherlock wrapped an arm around John’s waist and flew them home. 

 

Once there John went straight to the shower in his room and Sherlock to his. John took quite a bit longer, he often did his best introspection in the shower. And he had loads to think about. He knew he was wrong for the way he spoke to Sherlock, Otaktay and Lestrade. Even as he had been speaking, a small part of him was screaming at him to stop. He deserved Sherlock's anger and he would give him all the space and time he needed. There was also the matter of Otaktay's attraction for them. He knew he would never act on it no so long as he and Sherlock was an item. Otaktay was an attractive man. John could admit that, but what of Sherlock? Did Sherlock find Otaktay attractive? It was John’s understanding that most vampires took what they wanted, and if Sherlock wanted Otaktay, would he act on it? He knew at first, Sherlock was suspicious of Otaktay and didn’t like him, but it was because Sherlock didn’t seem to trust any male around him. 

Otaktay himself seemed to be a very honorable bloke. John didn’t think he had anything to worry about with him.

And the biggest headache of them all, Moriarty. Going on they offense, had to be handled intelligently and delicately. Between Sherlock and himself he was sure they could come up with something. They also had Otaktay and the rest of the council to consult in this matter.

 

There was a knock at the bathroom door and then someone entered not waiting on a response.

“John, are you coming to bed, or are you going to stay in the shower until you’re as wrinkled as a new born baby?”

John closed his eyes and sighed. Sherlock wanted him to come to bed, maybe there was hope after all. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel from the rack, wrapping it around his waist as he stepped out. “You want...you’re okay with sharing the bed with me?”

“Goodness John you sound like an adolescent boy sleeping at a friends house for the first time.”

John huffed as he roughly ran a hand through his short wet hair. “You know what I mean Sherlock. Aren’t you mad at me? Why would you want me in the same bed as you?”

Sherlock’s face softened. “Course I’m still upset with you.” 

John’s face fell as he looked down at his feet, he knew it was too much to ask for, Sherlock not being mad at him anymore, he really did have all the right to be so. 

Sherlock continued speaking, “Upset, hurt even, but not mad. But I also still love you and I will get over the events of this day soon enough. As you know, I don't always need to sleep, but I have  become accustomed to having you by my side when I do, so if you would be so kind.” 

Sherlock turned and walked from the bathroom heading back to his room. He felt like crying again. Not like earlier when he couldn’t seem to stop, but the ache was there in his chest. Maybe John hadn’t healed him as he had thought. Or maybe, the infection had caused a crack in his emotional armour and he needed to repair it, lest he become a blubbering fool every time he felt a wee bit hurt. Relationships were hard, two people who have their own personalities and their own ways, trying to cohabit a single space while not hurting one another. Trying to show fondness and consideration for one another without being an arse. Sherlock wasn’t sure how people did it for years. He and Moriarty was at each other's throats for years. There  had never been a peaceful moment with them, not even in the bed.

 

John walked into Sherlock’s room wearing just pyjama bottoms, carrying the shirt over his arm. Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room, his profile to John, he looked like he was deep in thought, and thoughts were quite unsavory. John tossed his shirt across Sherlock’s desk and approached the other man from behind. John wrapped his arms around the taller man, placing a kiss at the base of his neck. “What’s on your mind Sherlock? You look pensive.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but smile at John’s choice of word. “Pensive?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe, because I was.”

There was silence between them, Sherlock covered John’s hands around his middle with his own. 

“I really am sorry Sherlock. I couldn’t seem to stop those words from coming out of my mouth. I know it’s no excuse. But I hurt you, that is something I would never purposely do, or want to do again. Please tell me you believe me.” John whispered the words against Sherlock’s back, he was quiet, but he knew Sherlock heard every word.

Sherlock turned in John’s arms wrapping his own around John’s shoulders and holding him close. “Of course I believe you John. I can feel your pain and regret. But it still had it’s effect on me. Like I told you in the bathroom, I will get over it. Let’s  just let it go and move past it.” Sherlock placed a kiss against John’s forehead. “Now come to bed.” 

 

Otaktay appeared in the spare bedroom. He was extremely tired. Today had been a very trying and difficult day, it had taken it’s toll on him emotionally, mentally and spiritually. He definitely needed to sleep and recharge. 

Otaktay stripped down to nothing and climbed into bed lying on his back. He should try to meditate before going to sleep, clearing his mind would help bring him a peaceful sleep. 

Otaktay lay there taking deep breaths in through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. He pictured the Northwind sweeping through his mind clearing it of all negativity and doubts. He continued the breathing exercise and though of peaceful, tranquil thoughts on every inhale and pictured the Northwind carrying all the bad out on every exhale until he fell into a peaceful sleep.

 

Otaktay startled awake. He looked at his phone on the bedside. He had only slept for about three hours. He laid back down, his hand stroking down his bare chest, over his well defined stomach to rest at the base of his manhood. He was hard. This phenomenon was common for most men, but Otaktay couldn’t recall the last time he woke up with a hard on while in the bed alone.

Otaktay took himself in hand, moving slowly, touching himself with long, slow strokes. He closed his eyes thinking of Luisa who quickly morphed into something unexpected, the last two people he would have thought to fantasize about. As he thought about Sherlock’s perfect lips and John’s muscular arms he stroked himself faster, imagining Sherlock's lips on his neck and John’s hand’s touching him in the most intimate of ways. 

Otaktay stopped abruptly. This was wrong. He shouldn’t be thinking of his two friends in such a manner. Otaktay jumped out of bed and began pacing the room. He was still very turned on and feeling restless, the sexual energy burning through him. 

Otaktay opened the door and began walking. He had no destination in mind but found himself outside of Sherlock and John’s room. He couldn’t seem to get his body to obey him. He watched in horror as his hand reached up and knocked on the door. There was a muffled come in. Otaktay still fighting for control of his body entered the room stopping at the  foot of the bed. 

Sherlock lifted his head lazily and his eyes widened at Otaktay. Otaktay realized he was still completely nude. 

Sherlock nudged John awake. 

John looked at Sherlock first, “What’s wrong? What is it?” 

Sherlock pointed with his chin at Otaktay. 

John turned and looked where Sherlock pointed. When he saw Otaktay standing there naked, a small smile spread across his face. “Are you in need of some help?” John asked.

“John!”

“Oh come on Sherlock, he obviously needs some help, otherwise why would he be in our room... naked. The sooner we help him, the sooner we can all go back to sleep. He’s our friend, come on.” 

“Alright. Come on Otaktay, come to bed.” Sherlock patted the bed between John and himself. 

Otaktay stared in disbelief. This wasn’t happening. “Come on, let us take care of you.” Sherlock insisted holding out his hand. 

John threw back the covers revealing that both Sherlock and himself were also very much nude. 

Otaktay greedily drank them in with his eyes. Taking in Sherlock’s slender porcelain frame John’s tanned muscular one. He felt so conflicted but if they were inviting him in why should he be worried? In the back of his mind he heard Luisa screeching at him,  _ “Because they are men!” _

Otaktay’s body again took the choice out of his hands, climbing onto the bed between the dark haired vamp and the light haired human. He was caught between the Night and Day.

Sherlock instructed Otaktay to lay down on his back, as soon as he was in position John wrapped his hand around Otaktay’s length and began kissing on his neck, nibbling a path up to his ear. John whispered, “You’ve never been with a man before, right?” Licking the Shell of Otaktay’s ear, he produced a shudder from him. 

Sherlock began massaging Otaktay’s thigh, moving his hand down between his thighs, fingertips purposely brushing his sack. Otaktay gasped. It was too much, having both of their hands on him in tandem. He needed to get out of there. He struggled to get up. 

“Shh. It’s okay, we’ll take it easy on you.” John promised as he knelt between Otaktay’s knees, stroking him with two hands before bending over and taking him in his mouth. 

Otaktay hissed, immediately followed by a series of low moans. 

Otaktay watched as  his dick disappeared in and out of John’s eager mouth, John moaned around his cock loudly, making slurping sounds that only excited him more. He watched through half closed eyes as Sherlock kneeled behind John pouring lube on his fingers before slipping a digit or two inside John. He couldn’t tell from his angle but John's mouth opened wide on a silent cry,  allowing his dick to slide from his mouth. Otaktay was leaking all over John’s hand, making a mess. 

Sherlock poured more lube on his hand and rubbed it all over his own hard cock. Gripping John's arse in both hands, Sherlock slowly pushed into him while maintaining eye contact with Otaktay. 

“Fuck.” John whispered. Once Sherlock was fully seated, John resumed his attention on Otaktay, running his tongue around the head, lapping up the precum before sucking him in, down to the base. On every thrust in, John lowered his mouth over Otaktay’s golden bronzed length; and every time Sherlock withdrew so did John, the two were perfectly synced. 

The three men moaned and cried out as they pleasured one another. Otaktay’s hands found themselves buried in John’s hair holding him to him as he thrust up into his mouth hard. He was so very close. 

Otaktay watched as Sherlock began to thrust deep and hard into John calling out John's name with every snap of his hips; he seemed to be close as well. Otaktay himself was giving short thrust into John’s mouth and crying out, telling the men he was about to come, he was so close, just a little bit longer. John moaned around his thick cock and started to stroke himself fast.

Otaktay was coming, his body snapped upright; his eyes fought to focus as he looked around confused, he was still in the spare bedroom. He had been dreaming. It had  _ all _ been a dream. Otaktay collapsed back on the bed. It had felt so real. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, he was breathing hard as if he had really been in the middle of having sex. 

Otaktay looked down at his body, his dick was now flaccid and laying sated on his flat stomach. Proof of his orgasm covered his stomach and thighs, dripping down between them. Otaktay struggled out of the bed, wiping himself down with the sheets before removing them completely. He needed to wash them and shower before the other men woke up. 

 

He grabbed his pants and slipped them on as he walked to the garage where the washer and dryer was kept. He put the sheets in to wash and made his way back in the house heading to John’s room to shower when Sherlock’s door opened and Sherlock partially stepped out. 

“You okay?” he asked sleep still clinging to his voice.

“Yeah why?” Otaktay asked in a hushed tone. He was staring at Sherlock’s chest and images of the dream came back to him. He licked his lips and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the playback. 

Sherlock squinted at the other man. “I ask because I heard you cry out like you were hurt. You sure you’re alright?”

Otaktay opened his eyes catching Sherlock’s gaze, Yes. I’m fine. Sorry I woke you. I’m just going to take a quick shower.”

“Alright. If you need anything you know where to find us.”

Otaktay’s pulse began to race at Sherlock's words. He swallowed hard and nodded his head and made a beeline for the bathroom. He could definitely use a cold shower right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to name this chapter What Dreams May Come, but didn't want to give away the chapter.


	32. Regroup

“Was Otaktay okay?” John asked when Sherlock came back to bed.

“Yea. He was fine. Either he was having himself a bit of a wet dream or Luisa showed up after all.”

“I’m guessing the wet dream. How could you tell? I know he didn’t tell you, he’s a bit private that one.” John said quietly.

“Easy enough. I could smell it on him.”

“Oh.”

Sherlock got back into bed nuzzling John’s shoulder. He placed a kiss against the same shoulder and wrapped his arm around his waist. When they had gone to sleep, they had slept back to back, with only their legs intertwined.

John placed a kiss atop Sherlock’s head that got lost in his curls.

Sherlock placed another kiss further up in the crook of his neck, gently scraping his teeth over the skin successfully producing a full body shudder from John.

John turned so they were both on their sides facing one another. He rubbed his nose against Sherlock’s, his eyes closed. “I love you Sherlock.”

“I know.” Sherlock whispered back. He pressed in on John guiding him onto his back and settling over him. “Look at me John.”

John did as asked, looking up into the slowly darkening eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock looked back into the eyes of the man beneath him, he could see the other man’s heart in his eyes. Sherlock brushed his lips across John's softly, reverently. He needed to show John how much he cared for him, how much he loved him and he wouldn’t let him go without a fight. Sherlock slowly made love to John, covering every inch of his body and touching every corner of his soul.

 

Otaktay rested his head against the shower tile and let the cool water run down over him. He was ashamed of his dream. And even more ashamed at the fact that he was slightly disappointed that it had all been a dream.

Otaktay had never been attracted to men before now, he wasn’t against it, like a lot of the older people, they were set in their ways, a bit old fashioned he supposed. What really bothered him was the sudden onset of the attraction. He literally woke up one day and he was overwhelmingly drawn to the two men. It was like a switch had been flipped.

Luisa argued that the black magic infection had only served to unearth his attraction for the men. That he had buried it because deep in his heart he knew it was wrong. Otaktay had this argument with her before. He knew she was only against same sex relationships because she came from a time when the more children you had the better off you were. The richer you seemed. It wasn’t because of any actual bigotry or hatred.

Otaktay’s only problem with it, well he had two opposing problems. One he truly in his heart believed the attraction was another type of attack. The second, what if it wasn’t and it was all him and his body and emotions, it wasn’t fair to the two men in the other room. What they had was real and he didn’t want to pose any threat to them. Even unintentionally.

Otaktay washed up, wrapping the towel around his waist as he went to put the sheets in the dryer.

He made his way back to the spare room pulling out a fresh pair of soft suede pants and matching suede shirt. Otaktay remained barefoot as he went out the backdoor to the yard beyond. Much blood had been spilled here recently, perhaps he should go to the front of the house instead. He thought about it and decided to just find an area of the massive backyard that hadn’t been soiled. The backyard was better protected.

Off in a corner of the yard, a good distance from the door Otaktay sat down crossed legged, hands resting on his knees. He closed his eyes and started breathing exercises to enter into a meditative state. He needed to clear his mind and examine it. He was searching for answers and or causes for his recent change in personality.

 

Otaktay calmed his frazzled nerves, breathing out negativity and breathing in the nature around him. Nature was inherently good and should fill him with positive vibes.

He first examined his heart. Not physically, but metaphorically. What he found surprised him just a little. Being completely open and honest with himself he saw that he didn’t love Luisa in the manner he had thought he did. He was very fond of her and they had many years spent together, but he was not _in_ love with the beautiful Aztec Princess. He also found he was fond of the men inside, but nothing more. Finding this information led him to further examine his thoughts and feelings where they were concerned. He truly saw their beauty, but did not wish to possess it. He was content to stand on the sidelines and watch their love flourish and grow.

So what had him feeling like he wanted them in every sense of the word? Meditating revealed his baser needs and emotions, those that he often kept hidden even from himself, and what he found was a stark contradiction to what he felt when he wasn't meditating.

Otaktay realized he needed to look elsewhere for the culprit. He examined his mind next. Again, not physically but his thoughts and knowledge. He saw a thin grey trail it was barely noticeable and it ran the length of his mind, back and forth looping back on itself in many places. Otaktay continued to follow the thread. It lead out of his body. He would have to travel through the astral plane in order to see where it lead.

Otaktay looked down at his body, it was the dead of night, he was sure his body would be safe long enough to see where the trail ended. Making up his mind he followed the thin grey thread through the astral plane until it lead him to another. Inwardly he gasped.

 

Moriarty turned and looked at him. He smiled his cold, wicked but boyish smile. Otaktay was currently in Moriarty’s mind. He saw the thread wove its way around Moriarty’s mind as well before disappearing down further into his body. Otaktay was guessing it originated in the heart.

“Hello dearie. Fancy meeting you...here. Hope you like what I’ve done with the place.”

“What have you done to me?” Otaktay demanded.

“Oh, nothing much. The funny thing about dream walking babe, is if there is a way out of your own mind, there has to be a way back in. And if you don’t remember to close the door, it leaves you susceptible to all sorts of delicious things.”

Otaktay thought about what Moriarty was telling him. “So, you have been inside me, is that what this trail is?”

“Oh sexy, I have been _all_ in you, sadly not in the way that would bring _me_ the most pleasure. But I did leave you a little parting gift. That trail as you call, ties you and I together. That lust you’re feeling for the boys? It will never leave you. That dream you had? Hope you enjoyed it, because there is more where that came from. You’re my new playtoy, and daddy plans on having a lot of fun with you.”

Otaktay shook his head in denial. How could Moriarty have not only the power but knowledge to pull this off? Otaktay was no weakling. He was strong. His walls were strong.

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter how strong your walls are if you leave the door wide open. You are now like a two way mirror. I can use you to spy on them and they will never know. And the best part about it, I get to torture you while I use you.”

 

Otaktay reeled from the info. He retreated quickly back to his body snapping out of the meditative trance. He looked about. He could sense dawn coming. He jumped to his feet, he was sore from sitting so long in that same spot. His body was chilled to the core, not only from the night air but also from the news he received from Moriarty.

This was good in the sense he was right, he was being manipulated to believe he felt things for his friends that he didn’t truly feel. They were Moriarty’s feelings being forced into him. But the bad part, Otaktay was now a threat not to just their relationship, but to them as people and to the council and to mission at hand. He had to stay away from Sherlock and John. He didn’t know the extent of control Moriarty had over him. Could he force him to hurt one of them? Or was he only able to mess with his mind and gather intel through him? He had to find out how to sever the connection and until then, he needed to keep his distance.

 

John came out the bedroom freshly showered followed closely by Sherlock who captured him around the waist so he could nip at his neck from behind.

Otaktay watched from the couch. Powerless to look away. Now that he knew where these urges were coming from he didn’t feel as guilty but he still hated it. He cleared his throat. “Ahem ahem.”

John pulled out of Sherlock’s embrace, slightly embarrassed. He approached his Native American friend. “What’s wrong?” John asked as he perched on the edge of his chair. Sherlock joined them, sitting in his own seat.

“I meditated early this morning after I got out of the shower. And I have found the source of my attraction to you two.”

“Go on.” Sherlock encouraged.

“Moriarty found a way into my mind and has tied me to him. He is feeding these feelings and emotions into me. He said he could also use me to spy on you. He told me so long as he is alive, the tie between us will remain.”

Neither Sherlock or John said anything.

“Don’t you understand? I am a risk to you now. To the council, to the cause. I need to stay away until I can figure out how to break the tie.”

“Did Moriarty say how he managed this in the first place?” John asked.

“He said because I’m a dreamwalker, there is a door into my own mind. Essentially he followed me back into my own mind.”

“Let me take a crack at it.” Both Otaktay and Sherlock shouted “No!”

“I don’t want to chance you getting infected again or allowing Moriarty to get his hooks into you.”

“I second the motion.” Sherlock commented.

“Okay. But why do you have to leave? We could just refrain from talking about anything of importance around you.”

Otaktay shook his head as he looked down at the floor.

Sherlock spoke slowly, as if he was working it out in his head. “You’re afraid he might be able to control you, so you want to make sure you’re away from John, just in case.”

“Yes.” Otaktay answered.

“Oh. Is Luisa going to accompany you?” Sherlock asked.

“No.”

“Somebody should. Moriarty could make you hurt yourself.”

“It’ll be best if I go alone. I will check in everyday until I have this resolved.” Otaktay stood. John and Sherlock stood as well, each giving him a quick hug before he disappeared.

 

“How do you think he does that? He’s human.” John asked about Otaktay's ability to just disappear.

“He’s a dreamwalker, a medicine man and a skinwalker. Who knows what he has up his sleeves.”

 

A couple of hours later Lestrade, Rayne, John and Sherlock sat around the sitting room. Contractors were getting started in the back.

“Word got back to us about a hit on Moriarty’s billiard bar, the word is that it was done by _The_ _Judge_ and he left the ash from the bodies as a threat that he would be back. Is this true? Did you two waltz into one of his places full of vampires, take them all out and not only leave the ash as a warning but erase all the surveillance?”

Sherlock sat back smiling, resting one arm on the back of his chair. “Not quite. John spared three vampires and we saved some humans that were in the back.”

“Don’t be so smug you bastard. You both could have been hurt or killed.”

“We’re not smug or cocky. You should go with us one time. We work really well together. We have our strengths and roles.” John responded.

“Well you know what I think? I think you should call your two attack dogs back since your American friend won’t be here anymore.”

Sherlock groaned dramatically, “We’ll all be on the same grounds soon enough. These contractors are good and they’re quick. They have a big enough team that they should hopefully be done by the end of next week.”

“Two weeks? That’s awfully quick for a building. Will it be safe?”

“Course it’ll be safe Graham. I use them for everything.”

“Greg.” Lestrade grumbled.

“Sherlock tell me about this queen of the fae.” Rayne requested.

“There isn’t much to tell. She just kinda appeared and said we needed to get moving and go on the offense. She stated she would aligne with us but we needed to strike now before Moriarty got too powerful. Then she stated that Otaktay needed our help, and disappeared.”

Rayne turned to Lestrade, placing a hand on his knee, “What is the word from your hunters?”

“Uh, uh...umm...still in the talks with them. I have convinced maybe half of them that this is also our fight.”

Rayne leaned into him, giving him a peek of her ample cleavage.

John grinned. She was definitely flirting with him, and Lestrade was very receptive.

 

Sherlock clearly annoyed, “What’s next? Another hit on one of Morty's spots? A stake out? Hot sex for the two of you in our spare bedroom?”

Lestrade sputtered indignantly. “Excuse me?”

“Oh you both may be excused. If you go have yourselves a little shag, maybe you’ll get it out of your system and be of some help.” Sherlock fussed.

 

John’s mobile phone went off. He looked at the screen and then promptly answered. “Liam! Are you okay? We’ve been worried sick about you.” Sherlock gave John a look that said he hadn't been, and John amended with, “ _I’ve_ been worried sick about you.” He listened for a while, scowling. The longer he listened the deeper his scowl got. “Okay, calm down. Come over and we’ll help. Okay, okay. We'll see you in a bit.”

The rest of the group looked at John expectantly. John sighed heavily and wiped a hand over his face. “Mycroft and him had a rather nasty fight. And now Mycroft is missing.”

“How does he know Mycroft is missing?” Rayne asked sitting back against the couch, crossing her legs so that one small foot casually rested against Lestrade's calf.

“Well, he said that Mycroft was not fully dressed and his mobile phones are in the room still, right where he left them. Mycroft being head of the council and a member of the British Government, he never leaves his phones.”

“Did he say what the fight was about?” This question came from Lestrade.

John nodded, “Yeah, but it was a personal argument and I don’t think it has any relevance on him having gone missing.”

Sherlock stood up pacing, hands clasped behind his back. “We are truly a mess. Otaktay is compromised. Mycroft is missing. Delma and Mansi are on punishment,” Sherlock gave John a pointed look, Liam is also on punishment but sneaking over to see us now. Luisa is MIA, secretly I think she has a bug up her a-”

“Sherlock!”

“Carrying on, Lestrade can’t get his people together because he is distracted and Rayne, my dear, you’re like a kid in a candy shop. Please bed him and get it over with so you are focused on something more than what is between his legs." Rayne smiled and looked in Lestrade’s direction, she was clearly used to getting what she wanted. Lestrade on the other hand didn’t even turn in her direction.

“You’re right Sherlock, I am distracted. I still can’t get my mind wrapped around all of this so I haven’t been fully committed to the cause.”

John looked at Lestrade.

“I’ll put forth more effort, I'll try harder to persuade them.”

“Please.” John asked.

 

There was a knock on the door. John looked at it. He already knew who it was.

Sherlock used his powers to open the door.

Mansi and Delma stood there at the ready, as always.

John nodded to them. They entered.

“Ladies, what's brought you back?” Rayne asked.

Delma stepped forward. “Both John and Otaktay asked that we come. Also,”

“Luisa is dead.” Mansi finished.


	33. Chapter 33

Liam, Sherlock and John were sequestered away in John’s room. Liam paced back and forth chewing on his nails. 

Sherlock in an uncharacteristic show of affection pulled Liam into a hug.

John looked at Sherlock shocked.

 _His pacing was putting me on edge. It would’ve been rude to ask him to stop, yes?_ Sherlock answered John’s unasked question telepathically.

John replied back in kind, _I love you._

Sherlock smiled over Liam’s shoulders. “Liam. Why do you think Mycroft has been taken?” John asked as Sherlock rocked the smaller man.

“He was half dressed. He would never go out in public in that state. Not to mention he left both his mobile phones. And we never go to bed angry. It’s a rule of ours.”

“So he went missing last night?”

“Yes! I know he is a complete stuck up all around arsehole, but he’s my arsehole. We have to find him.” Liam wailed, he began sobbing again, soaking Sherlock’s shirt.

Sherlock looked so out of his comfort zone John almost laughed at the horror displayed on his face.

John saved Sherlock and pulled Liam into his own arms. Again he had to fight down a laugh when he saw Sherlock give a silent snarl. He mouthed, “Behave.” over Liam’s shoulder.

“Come now.” John lead him back out to the sitting room. Mansi and Delma  still stood near the front door. Rayne was staring at Lestrade as he fidgeted from the attention.

“Can anyone here track people or vampires?” John asked as he guided Liam into his chair.

Rayne looked at John, “You can.”

 _“_ What? No. I can track offending vampires and only when I’m close to them.”

“How do you know? Have you ever tried?” she countered.

“Well no, but what use would that ability be to a judge? To be able to track down a vampire who hasn’t done wrong.”

“Who knows. But you _can_ do it, I'm sure of it. Try it.”

 

John tried thinking of Mycroft as an object, trying to remember what he smelled like or something he thought a person who tracked others would do. After ten minutes he had nothing. He opened his eyes and shook his head sadly.

Sherlock kneeled beside John, he placed a hand on the side of his face, “You can do this. Try remote viewing. You had amazing results with that.”

John sighed, turning his head he placed a kiss in the palm of Sherlock’s hand.

Looking to Liam he asked, “What exactly was Mycroft wearing?”

Liam wrung his hands as he answered. “His usual, boring grey trousers, he’d taken off the jacket and tie. His white button up was halfway unbuttoned and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. And no shoes or socks.”

 

John closed his eyes and formed the image of Mycroft in his mind and tried getting impressions of his surroundings.

“I sense there isn’t much light. I get an impression of coolness or dampness. Um...red. Stone or rock...maybe. I taste salt. Tight.” John opened his eyes and looked at Liam. “Any of that mean anything to you?”

Liam shook his head frantically. “No, but I hope red doesn’ mean blood; at least not his blood. Oh! Maybe he is near natural stone or rock that could account for the coolness.”

“Underground. He could be underground.” Lestrade offered. “That would account for all of what John said except for red and salt.”

“Brilliant Lestrade. But Mycroft has been gone almost twenty four hours, he could have went or been taken quite far in that amount of time.” Sherlock said excitedly.

John gave Sherlock a censoring look.

“John, you take Delma and start driving, just see where you end up. Liam and Lestrade will drive the city looking for anything, Liam see if you can sense him. Sherlock and I will take to the sky and see if we can see anything. Mansi dear, stay here in case he comes here looking for Liam.” Rayne delegated duties to everyone and stood up to leave.

“Wait!” Lestrade called out stopping everyone in their tracks. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that those two said Luisa was dead?”

Rayne looked at him with something akin to pity on her face. “Well if she’s dead, there’s nothing to be done about it now is there? Mycroft is yet still alive and priority. We'll discuss Luisa’s fate once we have located our missing council member.” She turned and strode out of the door. Sherlock kissed John quickly on the lips and followed. Liam grabbed Lestrade's hand and started dragging him out the door.

John and Delma walked to the garage. John looked at the keys then to Delma, “You think it matters what car I take?”

“It’s been my experience that whenever someone is using their _other_ senses or abilities that all their senses be available to help aid them.”

John gave a weak smile, “So, the convertible?”

“The convertible.” she agreed.

 

An hour later John’s mobile went off. He didn’t answer it. He was still behind the wheel of the vehicle, seemingly driving aimlessly. After several minutes the phone rang again. This time, Delma answered. “Judge Watson’s phone.”

“Delma, is everything okay?” It was Sherlock and his voice held no trace of emotion. Delma had no doubt that if she gave him bad news he would find a way to kill her across the miles. “Yup. We’re just driving.”

“Why didn’t John answer?” Sherlock asked suspiciously.

“Because John went all Judge mode on me ten minutes into the ride.”

“You’ve been gone at least an hour, if you left right after us.”

“Yup.”

“Where are you?”

“Not quite sure. Tell you in a moment...ah yes, entering Sittingbourne.”

“What the hell are you doing in Sittingbourne? There’s nothing out there!”

“That may be the point Sherlock. I’ll call you back if we find anything.”

 

Sherlock looked at the phone in his hand. Delma had hung up on him. He looked to Rayne who looked entirely too smug, so Sherlock did what he always did when feeling exposed, he went on the offense. “Why are you so interested in the D.I.?”

Rayne smile turned sad around the edges, “He’s my salvation.”

Sherlock frowned, “What does that mean?”

“It means, it is none of your business. Let’s return to your house. We have a half blood fae to console.”

“What is your issue with the fae?” Sherlock questioned, not moving.

Rayne turned around giving Sherlock a hard look. “My memory is long child. When we were being hunted down and persecuted we turned to the fae for help, but they said it wasn’t their fight and turned their backs on us. Cowards.”

“So, we’re talking The Hobbit storyline? Is John really Bilbo and is this his great adventure?”

“Joke all you want Sherlock Holmes, but history has a way of repeating itself. I thought you were The Undead Scholar, shouldn’t you know this? It's literally ancient history.”

“I’m familiar with the war, but I didn’t realize a grudge would be held that long.”

“The longest. Forever even.”

“You do realize,” Sherlock began, “you still hold on to your hatred of the fae and take it out on Liam because he is half fae, all because his ancestors didn’t help vampires in a war against _humans_. Yet, you don't hold humans in the same regard. Their ancestors _actually_ did the killing; and yet you help protect them. What sense does that make?” Sherlock questioned.

Rayne gave Sherlock her back and then took go the sky.

Sherlock shrugged and then followed behind her.

* * *

John suddenly pulled over on the side of the road. He jumped from the car leaving it running. Delma grabbed the keys and followed him behind a building. John didn't stop there. He kept moving beyond the building to an outcropping of rocks that lead down to the water. Delma thought she heard something just under the noise of the ocean. But with the water crashing against the rock just a few feet away she couldn't be sure. As she rounded the rocks she saw John pick up a rock and start banging it against something. From her angle she couldn’t see what it was. As she got closer she realized he was banging it against the base of some bars. The bars looked like regular bars, metal, but there didn't seem to be any relief in the rock to show where or how the bars were added; it made a natural cage of sorts. Beyond the bars stood Mycroft, looking weak. In the poor light his skin looked garish and drawn. “Move John let me see if I can break him out.” Delma urged.

John looked at Delma, he was no longer being lead by the Judge power, he stepped to the side to give the vampire space.

Delma yanked and pulled on the bars and nothing happened, they didn’t even budge. She looked around and couldn't discern an open of any sort. It looked like one complete piece. No door, gate, or padlock to hold it in place. Magic must’ve helped to form this jail.

 

“Let me try again, I have an idea. Step back Mycroft as far back as you can manage.” suggested John.

When Mycroft was pressed as tightly against the wall as he could get John set the ground on fire at the base of one of the bars. He made the fire hotter and hotter until he was sweating from the shear heat. The bar slowly started to soften. The only problem was Mycroft also began to burn. His clothes started to singe and then caught on fire. He kept beating the fire down but then his skin too began to singe and bubble up burning.

Delma took several steps back from John, not wanting to catch fire like Mycroft. She could tell he was fighting back screams of pain.

John stopped, putting the fire out. Mycroft sagged against the rock face. Silent tears rolling down his face. His left leg, an arm, part of his chest and face were covered in third degree burns.

John reached out and touched the metal bars. It was still very hot but he called Delma over to his side anyways. “Delma, can you see if you can remove the bar now? Or bend it so he can try and squeeze through it please.”

Delma grasped the bars and John heard the sizzle of her skin, but still she held on as she pulled on the bar with all her strength. Slowly it began to give.

“I think I can squeeze through there, let me try.” Mycroft begged weakly.

“A...few...more...inches.” Delma rasped. “Okay!” She exclaimed letting the bar go as she staggered back.

Mycroft squeezed through the bars, his burnt skin ripping as he forced his body through the opening. John watched as Mycroft bit his lip against the pain. He needed blood, he was weak and injured. It looked like Moriarty had drained him within an inch of his life.

Delma picked Mycroft up and began making her way back up the side of the outcropping of rocks back to the car. Just as they were rounding the building they ran into a vampire.

The vampire stopped in his tracks caught off guard, but he jumped into action first. John dodged the vampires attack, turning quickly he set the vampire on fire, making the fire burn as hot as he could in such close quarters. The vampire died quickly before he could make any noise.

“I don’t sense anyone else, but I didn’t sense him either. I’m sorry.” Delma apologized.

“He was the only one they left.” Mycroft wheezed.

“We need to get him home. Now.” John fussed. Delma moved swiftly to the car placing the now unconscious vampire in the backseat.

 

John turned to Delma. “Thank you. I need to ask another favor of you.”

“Anything.”

I need you to bite my wrist open so I can feed Mycroft some. I fear he won't make it until we get home and I could never face Liam if that was to happen.”

“Sherlock won’t like it.” Delma argued even as she raised John's wrist to her mouth. She bit down into the vein quickly. John winced, this was nothing like when Sherlock bit him. John climbed into the backseat and placed his wrist over Mycroft’s mouth. He massaged his wrist coaxing the blood out of his wrist and into the ancient’s mouth. When John started to see an improvement in Mycroft’s color he removed his wrist, holding his hand tightly over the puncture wounds. “Could you?” John asked holding his wrist out again. Delma licked his wrist and had to fight not to latch on.

John saw the struggle in her eyes. He lost his balance as he took a step towards the driver side door. “I’m afraid you're going to have to drive.” John said.

Delma looked stricken. “I-- I can’t. I’ve never learned how to.”

“John staggered to the front seat and dropped into the driver's side. “We have to get him home.” John repeated.

 

Delma bit her wrist, “Here. You’re right we need to get him back. Drink. It will help strengthen you. I won’t let you drink enough to cause any-- harm.” John reached for her wrist but his hand dropped back down heavily. He felt so tired all of a sudden. He just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.

Delma panicked seeing how lethargic John was, he’d given way too much blood. She shoved her wrist into his mouth. At first John just allowed the blood to run slowly down his throat, but soon enough he was holding Delma’s wrist to his mouth and he was sucking on her wrist as enthusiastically as a new vamp.

 

“Enough.” Delma shoved him off of her roughly.

When John looked up at her, his eyes had gone a deep chocolate brown, they twinkled as if lit from within. She took a step away and closed her own wound.

John laughed heartily. “You thought Sherlock wouldn’t like me feeding Mycroft? He’s going to hate me feeding from you.” He laughed again closing the driver side door. “Let’s go Delmi.”

No sooner had she gotten both feet in the car John sped off, even with the door open.

“Woooooo!” he yelled into the night. He felt great. His whole body tingled, feeling overly sensitive to everything around him. Delma took out John’s mobile phone and sent a text to Sherlock.

**We have Mycroft. We will be back shortly. Don’t be mad, it was necessary. John is okay.**

**Delma**

John glanced at Delma and frowned. “Tattletale.”

“I didn’t. But I probably should have. Save me some grief when we get back. Sherlock is going to kill me.”

“Not if I kill him first.” John said laughing.

“Wha-what?”

John looked at the horror on Delma’s face and burst out laughing. “Not kill him- kill him.  You know, _la petite mort,_ the little death _._ ”

Delma’s face turned scarlet. _La petite mort,_ better known as an orgasm. “Well why didn’t you just say that?” She asked mortified.

John giggled again. “Do you know what vampire blood does to me?” John continued on without waiting for an answer, “It makes me feel like I’m drunk. I get the giggles and a big ol’ healthy dose of I don't care. Sherlock doesn’t know why it affects me like that, I’m the only human he has ever given his blood to, cause I'm special.” John finished in a stage whisper.

“I’ve seen humans on vampire blood before and they don’t react like this. They are more mellow and calm.”

“Well Sherlock hasn’t allowed me anywhere near vampire blood again. But when I drank from him that one time, I _was_ mellow. I was very mellow like my inhibitions had taken a long leap off a short cliff or something like that.”

“John focus on the road. Mycroft and I can't die if you crash but I believe you can. And Sherlock would certainly kill me if we return with a mangled and dead you.”

John pantomimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key out the window.

 

The rest of the trip was done in silence. Delma kept checking that John hadn’t fallen asleep he was so quiet. By time they reached the house again it was full dark and Delma would’ve put money on the fact that John had come down off of his vampire blood high. But as soon as they pulled into the yard John jumped out of the car leaving it running. Sherlock and Liam came running out of the house as well. Liam went directly to Mycroft in the back seat and John almost tackled Sherlock when he hugged him.

John took Sherlock in his arms, dragging his mouth down to his and kissing him roughly. Sherlock broke away, he wrapped his arm around John protectively and looked from Mycroft in the back seat with Liam to Delma standing on the lawn trying to look as small as possible. “Mycroft drank from you,”

“Noooo, he was dying and I made him drink my blood. He wasn't even awake.” John giggled and then apologized to Liam. Sherlock kissed John quickly, tasting and then his gaze shot to Delma, frowning.

Laughing again, John said, “Oooh, you’re in trouble now Delmi.”

“You gave John vampire blood? This is what you meant by don’t be mad?”

Delma nodded her head. “Really I meant all of it. Mycroft was in a really bad way. They had drained him almost completely. And then he had got third degree burns from John trying to save him, then some of the skin from the burns got ripped off. And lastly he passed out. John was very concerned and fed his blood to Mycroft, but he gave him too much. He was about to pass out himself and I can't drive, nor could I fly John home and risk Moriarty getting his hands on Mycroft again.”

“Moriarty did this?” Liam interrupted.

“I don’t know that he did for sure, but if not him then who? So I fed John blood not knowing he gets like this. I’m sorry.”

John had a handful of Sherlock's arse and was kissing along his neck.

“Bloody hell.” Sherlock murmured. “I’ll be right back Liam.” Sherlock scooped John up in his arms and using his superspeed he took John to their room, depositing him on the bed and then back out to the front yard. He got behind the wheel and drove the car into the garage.

Sherlock left the top down of the car so it would be easier to get Mycroft out. “Liam get the door please.” After Sherlock picked up Mycroft, Liam rushed to the door leading into the house and opening it. Again Sherlock used superspeed to enter the house and go to the back to one of the spare rooms. He lay Mycroft on the bed gingerly. Most of his wounds had begun to heal but he wasn't completely out of the painful stage.

Sherlock was glad Liam hadn’t been there to see what happened, it sounded awful. Sherlock rushed out one last time to the kitchen. He grabbed a bag of blood he had started keeping on hand, for emergencies out of the refrigerator. He tossed it to Liam once back in the room. He sat Mycroft up and tilted his head back while Liam tore into the bag.

Liam straddled Mycroft’s hips and placed the bag at his mouth, slowly pouring the life saving liquid into his mouth. Partway through the bag, Mycroft started drinking on his own. Liam sighed, some of the worry just sloughing off of him.

Sherlock stood back against the wall watching as Mycroft slowly started healing as he finished the bag of blood.

Liam smiled as he saw Mycroft’s eyes flutter open. “Hi baby.” Liam greeted quietly.

“Hi.” Mycroft raised his mouth slowly to meet Liam halfway for a gentle kiss. When they pulled away Mycroft spoke again, he sounded stronger than a moment ago. “Thank you for sending help. I am so sorry for the way I yelled at you.”

“Of course I sent help. I love you, you git.”

“Thank you.” Mycroft kissed him again, this time with more emotion and a hint of desperation.

“Sorry to interrupt the happy reunion. But what happened?” Sherlock asked.

“I left out of the front of the house, I was upset, irrationally so. I never go out the front after dark, because there are too many hiding places. But anger had me in it's grip and I wasn’t thinking clearly, obviously. I walked down to the street, undressed and no shoes, but once I stepped through the gates they grabbed me, two vampires. I could tell they were baby vampires but they were so strong I couldn’t over power them;  also, it was almost like we were in a black hole or invisible. Two people passed right by us on the street and they didn’t see nor hear me struggling and calling for help. The vamps got me in the back of a van and connected me to a machine that drained most of my blood. By time they had finished, we were where John and Delma found me. Moriarty was there, at the final location, he had a mage with him. The mage was the one who blasted a hole in the rocks and afterwards he tossed me inside and constructed the bars out of thin air.

And then Moriarty took great joy in telling me that Luisa was dead. He said we all needed to watch our backs because he was trying a new experiment to see if he could absorb the magic that makes each of us, well us.”

 

Sherlock cursed and went back into the sitting room. Mansi, Delma, Rayne and Lestrade were seated there waiting. Sherlock filled them in on what Mycroft had told him. “I think we should all start sleeping under the same roof now. And if we have to go out, we go out in pairs. I have enough rooms as long as we all pair up. Obviously John and I will take my room. Liam and Mycroft can keep the room they’re in now.”

“Mansi and I will room together.” Delma spoke up quickly.

“Course. You two can take John’s room. Lestrade you and Otaktay can room together, he already has a room here and Rayne, I doubt that the Queen of the Light Fae will move in with us so you can take the basement room for yourself. And seeing how we haven’t secured any shapeshifter alliances we hopefully won’t need to worry about that until after the housing is done in the back.”

Lestrade stood up stretching. “But I thought Otaktay was a threat to us? I’m not sure I want to share a room with him.”

“Well he’s not here right now so you will have the room to yourself-- for now. But hopefully we can figure out how to help him so we can bring him home as well.”

Sherlock began walking towards the rooms when he turned to address the group again. “Lestrade if there is anything you need tonight before settling in, pair up with Rayne. Just as if you need anything for tonight Rayne, take Lestrade.” Turning to the Delma and Mansi, “Same for you two. If you need to feed for the night or need anything before settling in, do it now and stick together.”

Sherlock stalked off to break the news to John.


	34. Chapter 34

Sherlock decided to stick his head in the room with Mycroft and Liam to tell them about everyone staying at the house until further notice. He didn’t want anymore distractions once he got in the room with John. Sherlock quickly relayed the message and shut the door. The two of them were in there snogging like teenagers. Sherlock suppose he couldn’t blame them, it sounded like it was a close call with Mycroft.

Sherlock had been in that situation quite a bit lately. He or John would have a close call, to be honest, it was usually John. But once John was okay all Sherlock wanted to do was lose himself in John. To make them both forget about how close they had come to Sherlock being forced to make John into a vampire. Because Sherlock knew he couldn’t face eternity without John by his side.

 

Sherlock walked into their room, immediately noticing that John was _not_ on the bed where he left him. Brushing off a small wave of panic Sherlock realized he smelled sandalwood, vanilla and something else he couldn’t identify. He walked over to the bathroom to find John soaking in a bubble bath.

“About time. I thought you were never going to stop playing host to those interlopers.”

Sherlock squeezed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. “Everyone will be staying in the house with us until the contractors are done.”

“Yes I figured as much. And everyone is out feeding and getting what supplies they need as we speak, am I correct?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

John sat up, resting his arms along the edge of the tub, he looked up at Sherlock. “It was the logical thing to do. Now get in this tub and make love to me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am still slightly drunk or high off of Delma’s blood, but I didn’t stutter, would you prefer if I said, 'Sherlock Holmes get in this tub and fuck me senseless?’ Hmm?” John closed his eyes waiting for an answer. What he got instead was Sherlock quickly shedding his clothes and stepping into the bath. John smiled with his eyes still closed and leaned against the back of the tub making room for Sherlock.

Sherlock straddled John’s hips, laying his head in the crook of his neck.

John ran his hands up and down Sherlock’s back, trailing water over his skin. Placing a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek he asked him was he okay.

“Yes just, need to feel you for a moment mon cœur.”

“You sure, we don't have to do this.”

“No it’s fine.” Sherlock's placed a kiss against John’s neck to urge the other man on.

John let his hand disappear under the water, pressing a finger against Sherlock’s tight entrance.

Sherlock let out a soft contented sigh.

This was nice, but it wasn’t what John wanted. He bit down on Sherlock’s shoulder as he started moving a finger slowly in and out of Sherlock.

Sherlock moaned loudly against John’s neck. “Aah, John!” he gasped. John had added a second finger already and was scissoring his fingers stretching him. It was just this side of painful but Sherlock didn’t mind a bit of pain with his sex from time to time. Sherlock dug his nails in John shoulders, lifting his head to take John’s mouth in a desperate kiss.

Again John took control; he bit Sherlock's bottom lip and ran his tongue over it. He sucked Sherlock’s tongue in his mouth, running his tongue over and around it, sucking on it roughly. Sherlock pulled away kissing the side of John’s mouth, his jaw, his chin; blazing a trail to his neck. As he suckled the pulse there he rutted against John as John moved his fingers with more intent, twisting and hooking inside him, his fingers rubbing over Sherlock’s prostate.

Sherlock threw his head back as he cried out John’s name, coming. Resting his forehead against John's shoulder again he lazily sucked on his neck, purpling the skin. He loved seeing his marks on John.

 

John placed his hands under the back of Sherlock's upper thighs, lifting. Sherlock barely budged. John tapped him lightly on the arse.

With great effort Sherlock sat up looking down at John with half closed eyes. His skin was flushed and lips swollen.

“Damn you look so hot right now.” John kissed Sherlock quickly. “Turn around.”

Sherlock leaned back until his elbows hit the bottom of the tub and then he rolled over onto his hands and knees.

 

As John came up on his own knees, Sherlock pulled the plug out the tub, letting the water out. John smacked Sherlock on the arse, momentarily leaving a red hand print.

Sherlock drew in a sharp breath at the contact.

John did it again this time placing the blow over Sherlock’s waiting entrance.

“John!” He gasped.

John lined himself up, pressing in only slightly, allowing just the head of his penis to slide in. Sliding his hand up Sherlock’s back slowly, John grasped Sherlock’s shoulder and gripped his hip with the other hand.

“Do it.” Sherlock rasped out.

With one smooth stroke John was buried to the hilt inside him. Both men groaned with the sensation.

John’s hand fluttered at Sherlock’s hip, his eyes were closed and his head fell back with his mouth wide. He pulled completely out of Sherlock and slowly, inch by glorious inch he slid back in.

John ran his hand down from his dark haired lover’s shoulder, trailing over his spine, sending shivers over Sherlock's body, and down to rest at his other hip.

John pulled out and begin thrusting fast and shallow, brushing over Sherlock’s sweet spot repeated.

“Mmm, oh John...aah...mmmgghn.”

“Fuuuck....fuck Sherlock. You’re so tight, and oh christ!”

John gripped Sherlock's hips harder as he drove  into him deeper. “Oooh...mmm Sher- fuck you feel so good.” The slap of wet skin against wet skin reverberated through the bathroom, mingling with their impassioned cries.

“Jo-John please….mmm...oooh.”

 

Sherlock rotated his hips and pressed back on John. His head hung down loosely between his shoulders and his moans became one endless cry.

“Mmm, Sherlock.” John stopped moving and let Sherlock work himself on him. He ran his hands repeatedly up and down Sherlock’s back. “Ohh fuck.” John gripped Sherlock's arse in his hands, squeezing before leaning over his back and taking Sherlock’s once again hard prick in hand.

 

“You’re so good...and you’re mine, all mine Sherlock.” John pumped Sherlock’s erection, faster, loving the sound of his name barely being formed before being said over and over again. Sherlock’s moans and groans of pleasure affected John in a most glorious way. His head swam with the sound and feel of Sherlock, he didn’t want this to end, but he could feel that Sherlock was fast approaching his release and he knew he wouldn’t be long behind him.

“Yes, John...yes. Mmm al- most...mmmgh…”

John bit down on Sherlock’s shoulder and thrust against him while still pumping his fist over him. “That’s it baby. That’s it. Come for me Sherlock, let me hear you scream my name. Let Mycroft and anyone else still here hear. I want them all to know you are _mine.”_

“Ahhh yes, yes.” Sherlock whispered.

 

John and Sherlock thrust against one another, reaching, searching for their release. John added a twist to his hand as it moved over Sherlock's length, teasing the sensitive head with every pass.

Stroking faster John again bit down on Sherlock’s shoulder, this time sucking the skin into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it.

“John, I’m…”

“Yesss Sherlock...mmm yes.”

“Aaaoohhh, J-John!” Sherlock cried out John’s name loudly as he came.

John squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Sherlock constrict around him. Straightening, John’s grip on Sherlock’s hips turned brutal as he thrust hard and deep into him over and over again repeating his name.

Finally John too cried out one last time as he came inside Sherlock.

 

John collapsed against his vampire’s back, breathing heavy; Sherlock felt his breath dance across his skin. He tapped him on the thigh signaling him to get up.

 

John slowly withdrew from Sherlock, being as gentle as possible. Heaving himself up, John reached out a hand and helped Sherlock up as well, pulling the taller man against him. John kissed Sherlock lazily and when they pulled apart he whispered, “Mine.”

Sherlock smiled slightly and answered, “Only yours.”

 

John kissed him again and then reached around Sherlock turning on the shower water.

Sherlock’s back was to the spray and he yelped embarrassingly loud when the cold water hit him. John couldn’t help but laugh at the mixed expressions on Sherlock’s face.

John took his time washing Sherlock from head to toe. Stopping to kiss him every now and again, not quite able to get enough of him.

 

When they both were thoroughly clean, they dried off, put on pyjamas and climbed into bed. John held Sherlock against him, placing a kiss against his ink black curls he said,  “Goodnight Sherlock. I love you.”

Sherlock yawned before responding sleepily, “Love you.”

 

The next morning when Sherlock woke up to an empty bed he panicked. “John?” he called out, unsure if he was in the bathroom. When no answer came he made his way to the kitchen. He found John, Liam and Lestrade sitting around the table conspiring, or at least looking like they were. John and Lestrade were eating while Liam nursed a cup of tea.

“Good morning Sher- What’s wrong?” John called out before looking up. Sherlock approached him, bending over he placed a quick kiss against John’s already upturned lips. John was frowning when Sherlock pulled away.

“What’s wrong Sherlock?” John asked again, he had sensed fear coming in waves from Sherlock as he had first entered the kitchen. It was slowly washing away now, but the initial intensity of it scared John.

 _I woke up alone, and I guess the events of yesterday were still with me. Sorry mon cœur.”_ Sherlock communicated telepathically.

John took Sherlock’s hand, pulling him down into his lap and said, “See Lestrade had we waited just a little longer you could’ve had a real treat. Sherlock is a wonderful cook.”

“And a phenomenal shag apparently.” Liam added under his breath.

Lestrade started coughing, caught off guard by the sudden change in subject. John laughed and threw a piece of sausage link at Liam.

Liam caught it in his hand. “Seriously Sherlock, I’ve never heard so much profanity come out of our little John’s mouth.”

Sherlock raised a brow at Liam’s choice of words. “I assure you Liam there is nothing little about John. And as he took great pleasure in making sure I knew without a doubt, I am his, therefore it stands to reason he is mine _. Not_ ours.”

John was clapping Lestrade on the back, he was having quite the coughing fit now.

Liam just rested his chin in his hands and smiled at Sherlock across the table. “Down boy. He’s all yours. But I suggest we change the subject before we kill Lestrade with our little talk.” Liam winked at Sherlock.

 

“So I see the festivities have already begun.” Rayne glided into the kitchen wearing only a short silky robe the color of freshly churned butter. She had it tied tightly in the middle, it only served to show off her figure more. She was cradling a coffee mug in her hands; Sherlock could smell that it wasn’t coffee she was drinking. He gave her a questioning glance.

“I took Mycroft out for a walk. We stopped for a bite to eat on the way back in.” Liam gave her a scathing look he didn’t like that Rayne all but called Mycroft a dog.

John watched for Lestrade’s reaction when Rayne walked in, he suspected that the D.I. was a little sweet on the vampire royalty. And sure enough, Lestrade's gaze followed Rayne’s progress  across the room. What John was not expecting was for Rayne to take a seat in Lestrade’s lap. Guessing by Lestrade’s expression he hadn’t anticipated this action either.

Three sets of eyes looked at Rayne and Lestrade with renewed interest. Rayne took a sip from her cup and pretended not to notice.

When no explanation came John started up the conversation again. “We should wait for Mansi and Delma to come out before we begin discussing what happened yesterday.”

“Oh hun, I thought we already were.” Liam said playfully, he and John chuckled lightly.

 

Mycroft, Mansi and Delma walked in. Mycroft already fully dressed for the day leaned up against the wall behind Liam. Delma in baggy sweats and a tee shirt lead a bleary eyed Mansi by the hand to an empty chair. Mansi was wearing a frilly ankle length nightgown and was rubbing her eye with her free hand.

“Well it looks like they’re out.” Sherlock murmured under his breath.

 

Delma stood behind Mansi’s seat but didn’t let go of her hand. Their joined hands rested comfortably on Mansi’s shoulder.

“What did we miss?” Delma asked shooting Sherlock a mean look.

“Oh nothing boo, you and Mansi were spared a stirring vocal performance of John and Sherlock’s greatest hits, in stereo.” Liam teased.

Mansi looked confused, apparently still half asleep and not a morning person. Delma on the other hand scrunched up her face in distaste.

 

“Let me start off by saying I have a confession to make.” Rayne spoke up, “I knew that Luisa was going to die, I just didn’t know how or by whose hand. I had thought I’d gotten it wrong when the girls told me that she wasn’t present for the backyard brawl that took out Eka.” Rayne paused looking down at her barefeet, trying to compose herself. “I liked Luisa. She had been my friend for a very long time. I thought when this moment came I would be ready.” Rayne looked up and looked at each member present in the kitchen. With red tears running down her caramel colored skin she said quietly, “You are never prepared for the lost of a loved one.”

Sherlock watched as Lestrade slipped his hand into Rayne’s, offering silent comfort.

 

“Have you seen anyone else's death, regardless if you think it’s been avoided or you are just unsure.” John asked.

Rayne shook her head sadly. “I’ve seen no other deaths ‘cept my own.”

“What?!” Lestrade blurted out, clearly bothered by the news.

“My death can be avoided, but I can’t say how. Everything must play out on it’s own. Either those who play a role in saving me will rise up or they won't. Either way I have lived a long full life; many lives. I can die in peace.”

“But I just met you!” Again Lestrade blurted out. He stood up easing Rayne off his lap and stalked out the kitchen into the sitting room beyond.

Sherlock wondered if this was what Rayne meant by Lestrade was her salvation. But she had said _those_ , who else played a part in her redemption or her demise?

 

John’s phone rang. Looking at the caller I.D. John answered the phone quickly. “Otaktay. Are you alright?”

“No.”

Further alarmed John stood up abruptly, knocking Sherlock from his lap. John began pacing as he spoke. “Do you need us?” He asked.

“Moriarty needs you, therefore I need you.”

“I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“I have figured out that Moriarty isn’t feeding me these images as he had said, he has directly linked his brain and thoughts and feelings to me. Whatever he feels I feel. Whatever he thinks I think. It is driving me crazy. I’m having a hard time discerning what are my thoughts and what are his. It’s like having someone else live inside my head, like there are two of me.”

“Anything we can do to help?”

“Not for me there isn’t, but I need you two to start working on the cure again. I never got in touch with the shapeshifters either. John, you and Lestrade should handle that. There is a man in London that goes by the name of Hyde, tell him I sent you and he’ll talk to you. I can’t guarantee that he’ll sign up but maybe telling him about my current situation will swing him to our side.” There was a pause, “John, I’m very sorry for the trouble I caused. Luisa is dead because of me. I will go back to the states as soon as Moriarty is taken care of.”

“No. You’re no trouble. We want to help you, just tell us how. And I’m sure Moriarty just wants you to believe Luisa is dead because of you. And…”

“How the bloody hell are you supposed to find Hyde in London? He hasn’t a last name?” Sherlock interrupted.

“Lestrade can find him. He hasn’t gone by a last name in many years. I need to go.” Otaktay hung up before John could object.

 

John knew all the vampires in the room had been able to hear both sides of the conversation, he turned to Lestrade who had wandered back in at some point, “Have you ever heard of the bloke he was referring to, Hyde?”

“Yeah, we keep tabs on that one, never approached him though. He’s a lycanthrope and we’re told he’s not to be trifled with. Last time I checked he was living over on the south side.”

“What animal does he turn into?” John asked extremely curious.

“Dunno. It’s considered rude to ask a shapeshifter that, one of my men learned that the hard way. There are all sorts of rumors though, some say he turns into a high predator of a cat, some say that he is extremely old and turns into some sort of extinct animal.”

“So why do you even bother to keep tabs on him, if you’ve never spoken to him? Do you plan on it at some point?”

“Nope! Not my division; I take care of homicide and vampires. I only keep tabs on him because he is the only shapeshifter we know of in London, I’ve learned it is a good practice to keep an eye out on unknowns.”

“Well Otaktay seems to think you and I are fit to talk to this Hyde character. We should get dressed and get moving.”


	35. Chapter 35

Back in the bedroom Sherlock watched as John got dressed. “John, is everything okay?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Last night.”

John gave a baffled look, “Last night?”

“Yes, your behavior…”

John blushed and Sherlock found himself smiling. “You’re not usually so forward or aggressive.” Sherlock explained.

Looking away John explained, “I was basically intoxicated or under the influence...whatever you wanna call it, my inhibitions were wonky. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It was a nice change of pace. Very possessive you were. Made me feel special.”

“You are special you git” John said as he raised up on his tiptoes and placed a kiss against Sherlock’s cheek. “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.” John warned lightly.

Sherlock grabbed John’s arm as he was walking away, “ _You_ be careful while you’re gone.”

John smiled, “Course.”

 

Once John was gone Sherlock pulled John’s laptop out booting up the instant messaging. He needed to try and contact the  light fae queen. She hadn't given her name but Sherlock knew that it was because a lot of the other earth species believed that if someone had your name it gave them power over them. Sherlock had never witnessed this to be true.

When Sherlock read over the short interaction between John and the queen he had to laugh. _Raíña da Luz,_ the queen’s handle literally meant Queen of Light. He sent a message.

 

 **_JW:_ ** _Queen?_

 ** _RdL:_** _Yes_ _John?_

 **_JW:_ ** _No ma’am, It’s Sherlock._

 **_RdL:_ ** _Oh. Is John okay?_

 **_JW:_ ** _Quite. Away on a small mission. Could you meet with us? The amassed council thus far?_

**_RdL:_ **

**_JW:_ ** _When John returns of course._

 **_RdL:_ ** _I’ll be there._

Sherlock signed off and put John’s computer away. He headed towards his lab to works on the cure while John was away. He much rather preferred to have John there while he worked, he seemed to work more efficiently when the doctor was present.

 

John and Lestrade was just pulling into the area that Hyde was last seen. “When was the last time one of your men saw Hyde?” John asked glancing about the area from the safety of the car.

“What? Oh no, only I keep an eye on him, none of my people even know where Hyde resides.”

“Why? Don't you trust your people?”

“Of course I do. What I don’t trust is their tempers or fear. I never wanted to chance one of them heading over here in anger or coming over here out of curiosity and then their fear leadingleadinga them to do something we all would regret.”

John looked at Lestrade appraisingly. “You’re a good leader Greg.”

Lestrade's looked a bit uncomfortable but smiled at the compliment. “Well, we better get this over with.” He slid from the car not giving John any time to object.

 

John exited the car and immediately felt like he was being watched. He looked around again. It appeared to be an abandoned part of town. He supposed it would be easy enough to fix up one of the warehouses on the inside while letting the outside remain rundown. “Do you... _feel_ that?” John asked quietly.

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to but I have  the sudden urge to get in the car and never come back.” Lestrade answered.

“Huh. You don’t...say.” John could feel the push of power, it was obviously what Lestrade was feeling. Curiously, John recalled Lestrade telling him that natural born hunters had a type of immunity to vampires, he guessed that had nothing to do with shapeshifters.

“John, I think we should go.”  Lestrade's voice quivered with fear.

John took a step forward calling out, “Hyde! We need to talk. Otaktay sent me to talk to you. We need your help. “ John felt Lestrade come up on his left. He didn’t turn and look at him, he faced down the area he felt the power emanating from. Slowly from a darkened corner of a building came a slithering sound.

Lestrade straightened his back putting on an air of confidence he didn’t feel.

 

_Took you long enough Judgggge._

Those words resonated in John’s head. The snake was speaking to him and he spoke how John thought a snake might speak, with a deliberate slowness and syllables drawn out to sound like a hiss. “Hyde I presume?” John wanted laugh at the absurdity of a snake shape shifter but then the snake moved fully into the light and John caught his breath. The snake was huge and getting bigger as he moved towards them. John recognized the snake for what it was, it was a western taipan, considered the most poisonous snake in the world. If a regular size snake could kill 100 men with the venom delivered in a single bite, John shuddered to think about what one this size could do.

 

Lestrade's hand flinched at his side, he itched to pull his gun and have it ready just in case, this was a huge ass snake.

Gradually the snake turned into a man, a good looking _naked_ man. He was extremely tall, and seemed to be of Asian ancestry. His hair was extremely short, a sort of buzz cut, jet black hair,  pale green eyes and his well defined body was covered in tribal tattoos.

“You can call me that if you wish. I knew you were coming John Watson, I have the gift of second sight, my third eye is effectively open. What I don’t know is how Otaktay is doing. Is he well? You said he sent you.”

John hated being the barer of bad news. But he filled the shape shifter in on Otaktay’s plight nonetheless.

“So that Is why he didn’t come himself. Very well, I will go back with you.” Hyde made a move towards the car but John held up a hand, “Um don’t you want to put some clothes on first?”

Hyde looked down at himself as if he was trying to see the problem. He looked at Lestrade then to John, “Oh. Of course, most humans are uncomfortable with nudity. Forgive me.” Hyde shape began to waver and then standing before the men was a type of man bunny hybrid.

John couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“Well John, I don’t own any clothes and several other choices in animal could go...awry. I would hate to accidentally hurt either of you, so a fluffy bunny rabbit it is. Let’s go.”

In the vehicle Lestrade turned to face Hyde in the backseat. “So how did you do that? Can all shape shifters turn into multiple animals?”

“To my extensive knowledge, I am the only one.”

“Oh.”

“I know you have been keeping an eye on me Lestrade. I would know your scent anywhere.”

“Um, sorry?” Lestrade wasn’t sure how to respond, Hyde didn’t seem upset about the matter.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Hyde finally said smiling.

“Likewise.”

The men traveled in silence back to the house, once they pulled into the garage Hyde got out and changed shapes again, this time he took on a bear-man hybrid. _John, Lestrade, do not tell the others of my ability shift into multiple animals just yet. John you may tell Sherlock later._

John and Lestrade nodded their heads in agreement.

 

Inside Rayne, Mycroft and Liam were sitting on the couch, no one talking, the silence was very strained. Mansi and Delma stood as silent sentinels in front of the door. And Sherlock, John was sure he would find him in the lab.

When Lestrade, John and Hyde entered Delma’s hand went to the hilt of her sword, Liam jumped up, “Thank goodness, the life of the party is back. Who’s your friend?”

Mycroft glanced briefly at Hyde, rolled his eyes and buried his face in his hands. Rayne only acknowledged Lestrade’s presence by catching his eye and patting the seat next to her.

John went back to the lab, opening the door quietly he sauntered over to Sherlock, who was so engrossed in his work he hadn’t even heard John enter.

“I’m back Sherlock.” John said it quietly so not to startle his studious vampire, but Sherlock jumped at the sound of his voice all the same.

Having gotten Sherlock’s attention, John walked over to Sherlock, learned in and kissed him gently. “Missed you while I was away.” John confessed.

“How did it go? Did you find Hyde?”

“Yup and he is out in the sitting room now.”

“Really? So he wasn’t...unstable?”

“Not at all, he is actually quite friendly.”

“I contacted the queen of the light fae, she’ll meet with us.”

“So our council is complete? We have a representative from every major species?”

“More or less.” Sherlock answered stroking John’s arm. “Come introduce me to our fellow council member.”

 

Sherlock was taken aback by the enormous size of the newcomer. “Hello.” He greeted.

“Hello Sherlock.”

“Um, Hyde would you come with me please?”

John led Hyde into his room picking out some clothes for the man to put on, laying them on the bed he gestured to them. “Would you mind putting these on? It’s not that you bother me in your other form, I just want us all to _appear_ to be equals.”

“Very well. Persephone will soon be here and then we can get down to brass tacks I suppose.”

“Persephone?”

Hyde frowned as much as his half man half bear form would allow. “The fae queen.”

“Oh, yes of course.”

 

John went back out to the group and walked in on an argument.

“Keep that insipid insect away from me!” Rayne was screaming and waving her high heel at a small ball of light.

From that light came another voice. “Insect? You overdue worm food!”

John rushed between Rayne, reigning queen of the vampires and Persephone, queen of the light fae, “Ladies! Please, we are all on the same side just now. When we beat Moriarty and the threat to _all_ of us you two can go back to fighting and hating one another.”

“But today is not that day.” Hyde added jokingly as he rejoined the group.

Liam and John turned to him, “Braveheart, really?” Liam asked, humor in his voice.

“I wanted to lighten the mood…” Hyde said defensively as he took a seat in a chair that had been brought from the kitchen.

Sherlock looked at Hyde appraisingly. He felt there was more to this man than he let on.

 

“Persephone, Rayne, please.” John pleaded.

The twinkle of light grew until it was a full sized woman. She turned her ire to John getting in his face. “What did you call me?”

Her voice was low but shrill. John could tell he had done something wrong but he couldn’t figure out what. Sherlock looked on quietly.

“Uh, Persephone- I’m sorry is that not-”

“Who told you that?” She demanded cutting John off.

He got two voices in his head at once. Sherlock and Hyde, _Don’t tell her._

John trusted Sherlock explicitly, Hyde had given him no reason to not trust him, and judging by the queen’s reaction John could understand not wanting her to know where the info had came from. “Um, uh…” He shrugged. He didn’t want to lie so he said nothing.

She looked over to Hyde, squinting hard. “Was it you?”

“What? Me?”

“Forget it.” The queen mumbled going to sit in a chair the furthest away from Rayne.

 

Everyone sat around the sitting room.

“First order of business,” John began turning to Hyde, “I know you don’t know us-”

“I know enough.” Hyde interrupted.

“But will you accept a position on our council, serving as a representative and liaison for lycanthropes?”

“Yes.” Hyde said simply.

“Alright, on to other things.”

“How are you- sorry, how are _we_ , going to handle all of the hunter deaths?” Hyde asked suddenly.

Every pair of eyes fell on the newcomer.

“What do you mean? What hunter deaths? Lestrade implored sitting up straight.

“It’s the reason you haven’t been able to get in touch with most of them. They’re dead.”

Lestrade looked at Hyde, disbelief written all over his face.

“Lestrade, deep down you have suspected it. You have protocols in place and they have not been followed for quite a while now.”

“How do you know this?”

“You’ve kept tabs on me, turnabout is fair play.”

“How many?” Lestrade asked quietly, his voice strained. “I _know_ you know. How. Many?”

For the first time Hyde looked sad and uncomfortable. “One hundred three for certain.”

“How is that even possible?” John asked incredulously.

“Moriarty has been at it far longer than you all realize. First he took just the hunters that had expressed wanting out and then he moved on to those who had no family.”

 

Sherlock looked stricken by the news, he should have kept a better eye on his old master. He knew what Moriarty was capable of but he had allowed the knowledge that Moriarty's power was beginning to wane to lull him into a false sense of security.

John placed his hand on Sherlock’s, able to feel the grief, regret and the sense of burden wafting off of him in waves.

 

“It isn’t your fault Sherlock. Just as you hid your rise to power, Moriarty hid his new alliances. He _and_ they are masters of deception, you couldn’t have known.”

John felt Sherlock’s pain get deeper, it was a lot of people lost. He brought Sherlock’s hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to the back of his hand.

 

Lestrade was struggling with the news himself, he had his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his hands. His people, he should have seen the trend and warned everyone else. He needed to implement the buddy system just as Sherlock did.

“You need to know Greg, some of your men and women were turned. There is still hope for them yet, but with a master like Moriarty...well very few escape his grasp untouched.” Hyde announced looking to Sherlock.

 

Persephone giggled. Every eye in the room turned to her. John saw red. “What is so fucking funny?” He gritted through his teeth.

“You act as though that is a huge blow. It’s just one hundred humans, hardly a reason to cry.”

Mycroft spoke up for the first time that evening, “Don’t forget you are in mixed company _Per-sep-hone_.” He dragged out the queen's name, making it a warning that she clearly understood.

John looked at the woman. “I thought you were queen of the _light_ fae. What is wrong with you?”

The queen simply snorted trying to hold in another giggle.

“Because she is light fae doesn’t mean she is good. Light and good aren’t interchangeable when dealing with the fae.” Liam explained. “What makes one light and one dark is simple the method of the magic and the morals of their magic. Dark fae believe all magic is theirs for the using, and if it causes strife or death so be it. The light fae believes magic should cause no harm and if you use it for bad it will come back on you tenfold. It is more of a look out for yourself type deal. They don’t use magic to harm because they don’t want it to come back on themselves. Equally true, they don’t hold other species in high regard, they believe the fae are the highest on the hierarchy. And well, if bad things happen to those beneath them, then well who cares as long as they are safe. Which is also the only reason she is willing to help. To protect her own from Moriarty and the dark fae.”

“Nothing wrong with wanting to protect your own from evil.” Persephone argued, arms crossed across her chest.

“No, it isn’t, but _all_ life is precious and should be protected.” John answered. “We can’t afford another blow like this, we need to know what Moriarty is planning.” John closed his eyes and concentrated trying to reach an ally. When he opened his eyes he wasn’t sure if he had been successful but hoped his message got across. Turning to the queen he asked her a simple question. “If we call you to fight beside us will you come?”

The queen yawned looking bored. “Sure.”

“And will you fight?”

She cocked her head to the side and studied John. “I have already answered you.”

“No. You have only said you would come. Now, will you also fight?”

Still looking bored she answered, “Maybe.”

Liam gasped. “You snake! Are you here spying for Moriarty? Or weighing the odds on who will win, us or him?”

“Honestly,” The queen began, “the odds are better with him, but life would be unbearable. So I side with the council.”

 

“Very well. Lestrade you need to see about your people.” John instructed.

“I’ll call, I don’t need to show up with a vampire or shapeshifter to deliver this news. And you’re needed here.” He stood and made his way to his room, Rayne following behind him.

 

Persephone stood up stretching before shrinking back down to a small ball of light before blinking out completely, gone from the house.

Mycroft and Liam stood up and retired to their room.

“I supposedly you could bunk with Lestrade.” John offered to Hyde.

“Nah no need. I’ll take the basement. Rayne won’t be using it tonight.” With that he bounded down the stairs humming to check out his new digs.

Turning to Mansi and Delma, “You two don't have to stand around all night. This is your home for now too.”

Delma inclined her head to him, grasping Mansi’s hand they went to John’s room.

“Come Sherlock. Let’s go work on that cure of yours some more.”

 


	36. Chapter 36

John and Sherlock worked on the cure. Sherlock coming up with different combinations and formulas and John checked the effectiveness of it. They worked for several hours until Liam knocked on the lab door and then stepped inside.

“Um, John darling, there is a Charles out here asking for you. He looks so lost and he's aggitated. We haven’t invited him in, do you want to come have a chat with him?”

Sherlock looked at John, “Charles?”

“The vampire I let go from the billiard hall.” John took off the apron he had been wearing and hurried off behind Liam. 

Sherlock followed closely behind. “Did you log the findings on this batch?”

“Not yet. I wrote down the changes to the variables and the independent variable. But I need to talk to Charles. I need to know what he has found out about Moriarty’s plans.” 

The two rushed through the sitting room to the front door where Mansi and Delma blocked the entrance in their mismatched pajamas. Mansi back in a girly nightgown and Delma in sweats and a tee shirt. Both had their swords drawn. 

John and Sherlock pushed past the duo to gain access to the door and Charles beyond that.

“Charles.”

“Are you-” Charles swallowed hard as if he was frightened. “Are you John Watson?”

“I am. You have news for me?”

“You were in my head. How were your in my head? Do I know you?”

“What news do you have for me?” John repeated.

“Moriarty. He’s impatient. He said he's going to strike by weeks end. He says he has the upper hand, that you're outnumbered and he brags that he has your hulk.”

“Did he say where he was going to strike?” Sherlock interrupted.

Charles turned and looked at Sherlock as if seeing him for the first time. “Who-”

“It’s okay Charles, you can answer his question.”

Shaking his head Charles said no.

John’s mobile phone rang. He looked down frowning and annoyed at the interruption, it was Otaktay, he answered. “Hel-”

“John! I have to be quick, I found a way to temporarily block my thoughts from Moriarty but there is still a risk of him finding out. I needed to warn you, Moriarty knows about Charles. I’m sorry, he pulled it from my mind. He is planning to attack sooner than we thought. He has a considerable amount of people already but not as many as he wants. He said he needed to gain control before she came back. I don’t know who's she is but I could feel his fear.”

“When? When is he attacking?”

“I don’t know. He just keeps saying by weeks end. I have to help make this right John.”

“It’s Tuesday. That gives us a couple of days to prepare. Thank you Otakat-” The line went dead.

John hung the phone up and approached Sherlock. “He basically collaborated Charles’ story, but they have both been compromised, can we trust the info?” John and Sherlock looked over to Charles, he was looking around nervously. 

“I shouldn’t have come. Why did I come here? He’s going to kill me.” As if on cue, out of the night a vampire appeared slitting Charles’ throat, moving faster than John could track with his eyes. Sherlock quickly grabbed John about the waist and dragged him inside. John watched as Charles’ body hit the ground, head rolling away from the body. 

The vampire turned and smiled at the group gathered in the doorway. “Moriarty sends his regards.” And then he was off. 

 

John ignited Charles’ body with a thought, getting rid of the evidence. Once the body was completely disintegrated John put the fire out, closed the door and addressed the group. “We have less than a week to get some semblance of a plan and army together. Moriarty will be knocking at our door soon.” John went on to relay the message about Moriarty wanting to seize control before she returns. “Does anyone know who he is talking about?”

Lestrade shrugged and crossed his arms, Rayne was leaning into him and shook her head slightly. Mansi, Delma, Mycroft and Liam all said no.

“Where’s Hyde? He was here a moment ago.” John stalked off to the basement to see if Hyde had come back to the makeshift room. There was no sign of the shapeshifter. Going back upstairs, John checked the other rooms. There was no sign of him still. “He’s gone. I’ve found no trace of him anywhere.” 

Sherlock came up behind John wrapping his arms around the shorter man’s shoulders. “What do you suppose that means? Do you think he is working with Moriarty?” Sherlock asked.

“No. Maybe he just got scared.” John suggested. 

“He doesn’t strike me as the type to get scared easily.”

“No he doesn’t but maybe he knew what female Moriarty was referring to and he got spooked.”

“Maybe. We should contact Persephone and inform her of the new development.” Sherlock and John went to the room to send Persephone a message.

_**JW:** Your Highness… _

_**RdL:** …_

_**JW:** We need to talk, it’s urgent. _

**_RdL:_ ** _..._

 

There was a scream from the sitting room.  _ Rayne _ .

John and Sherlock rushed out to see what the commotion was all about. It took John a moment to make sense of what he was seeing. Rayne was on the floor kicking and screaming, and there was a misshapen lump on top of her.

“Get her her off of me! Get her off, get her off, get her off…” Lestrade and Liam moved to remove the lump from atop of Rayne. When they laid the lump down gently next to Rayne, John was able to see it was a body; the body of Persephone. She looked as though she had no bones, just a lump of skin, hair and wings. 

“What on earth?!” Sherlock exclaimed. There was a flash of light behind Liam, Delma was there instantly with her sword drawn. Two fairies appeared. When they saw Liam they dropped to one knee and bowed their head. 

Mycroft sidled up to Liam, standing at his side. “What is the meaning of this?” He asked. 

“The queen has been killed. We have come to seek council with the new king.”John looked to Liam, he was the only one here with fae blood that he knew of. “Who is your king?” John asked, needing to clarify. 

“Liam, the queen’s son.”

Liam sputtered at the news, trying to find words. “N-no-no...you must be mistaken. I am just a halfblood of no importance.”

“Permission to approach your highness?”

“Wha-? S-sure...I mean...whatever.” 

One of the fairies approached holding out a rolled, aged scroll before him, offering it to Liam. 

Liam wrung his hands, not reaching to take the delicate paper. Mycroft snatched it from the fairy, opening and reading it. His expression softened just a bit as he passed it to Liam. “You need to read this.”

 

With shaky hands Liam took the scroll and held it open while he read. 

**_Liam,_ **

**_It is true. You are my son. I am sorry I have kept the truth from you. I did it partially to protect you and partially because I was ashamed of my own actions. When I was very young, just a princess, not yet had I ascended to the throne; I met this man. He was a powerful sorcerer and I thought because he was of magic he must be like me and my family, fae._ **

**_He courted me for quite a while, you see time runs different in the fae world. After a time we became intimate and I became pregnant with you. I was so afraid of what my parents would think, so I ran away with him to the human world. That was when I saw his true self, he was evil through and through. He sought to gain a foothold in the fae world by his ties to me. I refused to help him and hid you away in the human world. He vowed to find you and make me pay. I broke down and told my parents about you and they helped me to develop a spell to hide your presence. Sadly it wasn’t enough. Your father was turned into a vampire by the original vampire and he served as her right hand for many years until she was trapped and buried alive for her crimes. Afterwards he sought you out and turned you into a vampire as well._ **

**_My parents are forcing me to take an elixir to kill any feelings I have for you my child. They said it is dangerous to love a creature like you, the child of powerful fae royal and a powerful sorcerer. I am writing this letter before I drink this foul concoction so that you may feel all the love I have for you._ **

**_I am sorry my actions have forced a life of solitude on you. I left instructions that in my death this letter be delivered to you along with the reign to the kingdom. I pray you can forgive me and be the ruler I never could be. I love you Liam._ **

**_Forever your mother,_ **

**_Persephone_ **

Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks. His mother _had_ love him. 

Mycroft pulled Liam into a hug, rocking him slightly back and forth. 

Liam tightened his arms around Mycroft. He need this, an anchor to the present. Images of his past flew through his mind threatening to suffocate him in the sheer pain and misery that had been his life before Mycroft. 

 

John looked at the two fairies, they were grieving for the lost of their queen but hid it very well. They needed direction to help them focus on something other than their grief. Looking to Liam, his poor friend was drowning in emotions.  _ Liam, they await, they need your instruction to help them through their own grief.  _ John thought to his friend, mentally running a hand down his back offering comfort. 

Pulling away from Mycroft, tears of blood streaking his face he gave his order with a firm voice, “Prepare for war against Moriarty and the dark fae.” The two fairies bowed deeply and started to twinkle out when Liam called them back.

“How do I contact you? Or anyone in the fae world?”

“Just summon us your highness.”

It made no sense to Liam but he would ponder it later. “Also, take Persephone’s body, bury her at home.”

“As you wish your highness.”

Mycroft lead Liam into their borrowed room and away from prying eyes.

 

Lestrade had his arms around Rayne who was visibly shaken. John was unsure if it was a ploy to get sympathy from Lestrade but he guessed having a dead body thrown on you could have a negative effect even on the strongest of vampires.

Sherlock sat down in his seat and pulled John into his lap. He rubbed his forehead back and forth across the exposed skin there. The last couple of days had been extremely tough, but his strong soldier was holding up and being the backbone that everyone needed. Sherlock spoke up to those remaining in the room, his voice coming out muffled from his proximity to John’s arm. “I suggest we all get some rest. Tomorrow we really need to pull resources and get prepared for Moriarty's attack.” 

Lestrade lead Rayne away to his room and Delma and Mansi disappeared to John’s. 

Sherlock pressed a kiss to John’s arm. 

“You alright Sherlock?”

“Yes...no. I don’t know. We aren’t ready. All of these emotional strikes. Our heads aren’t in the game.”

“Maybe that was Moriarty’s game plan all along.” 

“No. I know Moriarty. He’s clever. You see how long he’s been at this game, taking Lestrade’s men, killing some, turning others. I think when he saw you at the party that night he hoped to use you for his plan. Moriarty has always been extremely good at spotting power. And people's weaknesses. He saw power in you John. And weakness in Otaktay. That was why he took him. But I would be surprised if Otaktay didn’t find a way to one up Moriarty for underestimating him.”

John leaned back against Sherlock. I hope you’re right, I had the distinct feeling when I spoke to him that he was going to do something rash.” 

John hopped up suddenly. 

“What? What’s the matter?” 

“I need to go check the results of the last test with the cure. I never logged it.” John started back for the lab and Sherlock followed him feeling weary. 

John stopped suddenly, turning around he kissed Sherlock quickly. “Stop worrying.” He continued on to the lab, going directly to the test tube that he had been working with. Right off he noticed the color had changed. That had never happened before. Excitedly he got out a slide and placed a bit of the mixture on  it and placed a cover slip over it before pushing it under the microscope to view it. The cells were still alive. Even though a considerable amount of time had passed. This was also a new development. John couldn't contain his excitement and hope for what this would mean if it worked. Looking up at Sherlock he said, “I need some of your blood to test this batch.”

“What? The batch can't still be good? We left it-”

“I know! But the cells are still alive and I want to test it on your blood.” John rushed around the table kissing Sherlock deeply before passing him a syringe.

Sherlock stuck himself with the needle, drawing blood. Once he had enough he passed it to John and followed him back over to the far side of the lab table. He watched as John placed a milliliter of his blood on a slide, carefully sliding it under the microscope. “Sherlock squirt a milliliter of the mixture into your blood please.” 

Sherlock used a pipette to squirt the mixture into his blood under the microscope. He watched John as John watched for a reaction. 

“Another milliliter please Sherlock.”

Sherlock complied with the request. 

John watched for a reaction for several moments. “Another mi- wait! Oh my goodness! Sherlock it’s working! It’s working.” John excitedly moved to the side and let Sherlock look. 

“Christ!” He pulled back and looked at John. “You did it.”

“No,  _ we _ did it. I used your latest formula and just tweeked a couple of things. Like the independent variable.”

“Which was?”

“My blood.”

Sherlock looked at John, “Do you mind?”

Smiling up at him John replied not at all. He passed Sherlock his notes and moved to sit in the chair and watched as Sherlock recreated the formula using John’s subtle changes. 

“Your blood mon cœur.”

John pricked his finger on knife he had at the table. Walking over to Sherlock he placed 3 drops of his blood into the mixture and went to sit back down. After about a minute the mixture changed colors. “Do you suppose we need to wait like before? Allowing the same amount of time to pass as when we were dealing with our others issues?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Sherlock shrugged and placed a ml of his blood on a slide and placed it under the microscope, and as he did before he placed the same amount of the mixture onto the slide. Nothing happened like before. He placed a second ml on the slide and he watched in fascination as the formula attacked the vampiric cells leaving nothing but living human cells on the slide. Sherlock cheered out loud, “We did it!” He crossed to John giving him a slow sensual kiss, putting all his love and thanks into the simple act. “Let us go to bed. We really do have a big day tomorrow.”


	37. So, No Calm Before the Storm?

Sherlock and John’s week went by extremely fast. They prepared multiple batches of the cure, testing each and every batch for effectiveness.

Sherlock with John’s help took several vampires back to the council’s keep to try the cure on them, to see if it mattered how much was administered and if it was a lasting effect. Their first test subject was someone John normally would’ve put to death for his crimes. He first wiped his memory and replaced it; followed by Sherlock compelling him to take the cure. Nothing happened an hour after giving him .5 mL. They upped the dose to 1 mL. Again nothing happened. Sherlock began pacing and feeling pessimistic about the whole idea, thinking they must have did something wrong. Maybe the cure wouldn’t work on a “living” host.

John feeling a bit impatient and not liking the turn Sherlock’s mood was taking walked over to the control subject and injected him with another 1.5 mL, bringing the total to. 2.5 mL. Almost immediately after injecting the vampire with the additional amount, the vampire doubled over holding his stomach as if in pain. Sherlock and John watched the vampire closely. John took notes of symptoms and side effects while Sherlock simply observed.

The vampire passed out ten minutes in. After two hours John drew a vial of blood and tested it. No sign of the vampire virus. He was elated. Sherlock on the other hand thought it was too early to celebrate. He felt they needed to watch the man and make sure he didn’t revert back to being a vampire or any other adverse side effects like death. This vampire was relatively new, so he went out and captured a far older vampire. This is one was about one hundred and fifty years old.

Sherlock had crossed paths with this vampire before. He had a reputation for his cruelty on the street. He had no doubt John would find him guilty.

Once back in the council’s dungeon he locked the vampire up. When John approached the vampire his eyes flared bright white. This one had been very evil.

“Bartholomew, you have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death. You deserve death more than any vampire I have judged thus far. But I will not grant you death. You, who have relished being a vampire and have forced the affliction onto others. You who have used your vampire prowess to torture, kill and perform every crime under the sun will be cured of vampirism. You will live out the rest of your days knowing what you once were and how weak you’ve become and all that you have lost.”

The vampire scoffed at John’s words. “There is no cure for the vampire gift.” He sneered.

John locked eyes with the vampire. “Once you are human you will feel physically sick at the thought of violence. You will do no harm, to yourself or others.”

The vampire shook his head as if trying to dispel John from his head. He smiled as if he had the upper hand.

Sherlock passed a syringe to John.

John held the eye contact with the vampire as he injected him with the cure. He watched as the vampire grimaced and ground his teeth against the pain. Finally he broke eye contact and doubled over falling to the cell floor.

 John turned to Sherlock, he looked weary. “We need one more at least. A woman.”

“Of course.”

And then we might want to stay here with them for at least twenty-four hours.”

Sherlock pulled John into his arms, holding him close he ran his hands up and down his back, placing a kiss to the top of his head. Sighing he pulled away. “I’ll be back.”

* * *

 

Lestrade was on the phone with some of the hunters. He was trying to organize a meeting ASAP. Rayne lay next to him, using a finger to draw designs all over his bare chest. “Tommy! If you have to personally go to everyone's house and knock on the door dragging them out, that is what you need to do. You are my second for a reason. I need you to get everyone out here like yesterday!” Lestrade was quiet for a couple of minutes listening to the other men on the conference call. Finally he said, “Thank you.” and hung up.

Turning to Rayne he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I hope Liam is having an easier time of getting the fae together.”

After several moments of silence Rayne started to speak. “I know we just met, and I hate to be a total woman, but how do you feel about me Greg?”

Lestrade looked down at the woman in his arms and couldn’t help smiling. “It’s very strange. I’m drawn to you despite my usual hang ups, I care what happens to you. And I would like, ahem- I would like to see where this goes between us.”

Rayne smiled sadly. She wasn’t sure if it was enough. She could feel the darkness bursting to get out. It had been pushing at her for some time now, but just knowing her possible light at the end of the tunnel was near helped her to continue to fight.

This was something all vampires her age faced; unexpectedly you just went what she called dark. No matter how good of a person you are you hit a certain age or plateau and your emotions dimmed to nothing and you just start to kill indiscriminately almost like the blood lust, but you were not only aware of your actions, you relished them.

Rayne turned in Lestrade's arms and placed a small kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I feel like I’ve known you a lifetime.” She stated looking into his eyes. And despite the feelings she felt for him, something in her urged her to rip out his throat, to see if hunter blood was as sweet as she thought.

Lestrade placed a hand on the back of her head bringing her down to meet him in a kiss. It quickly turned heated. He moaned, opening his mouth to allow her the access she so desperately seeked. She was a very aggressive lover and Lestrade was okay with that, allowing her to dictate what was to happen. Rayne sucked on his tongue giving her own small moan. And then she bit him drawing blood.

Lestrade tried to pull away in shock, plus it kind of hurt. Rayne continued to suck at his tongue, drawing the blood out. When Lestrade attempted to push her away she straddled his hips and held him down while she continue to drink his blood.

All of a sudden she drew back and was on the other side of the room before Lestrade could pull in a ragged breath.

Rayne's eyes were wide as if she was just as shocked by her behavior as he was. She wiped at her mouth.

“All you had to do was ask. I would have let you feed.” Lestrade said quietly with a slight lisp courtesy of the bite on his tongue. Lestrade frowned at himself, realizing he was telling the truth, he would have let her.

“I'm so sorry Greg. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you...I have to go- I need to-” Rayne pulled her clothes on quickly.

“Wait! What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

Rayne shrugged into a pair of heels and approached Lestrade like a skittish animal. “You want to help? Fight for me when it’s time. Make the hard decisions.” She went to kiss him again but thought better of it. Before Lestrade could respond she was gone.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath.

 

The sitting room and kitchen was crowded with hunters under Lestrade’s direct command. He paced back and forth in the garage with the phone to his ear. “Dammit Rayne answer the phone or call me back.” It was Thursday afternoon, Rayne had been gone for a little under twenty-four hours.

He griped his phone tight, wanting to slam it against the floor but refrained.

“You’ll see her again...soon.”

Lestrade whirled around searching for the source of the voice. Otakaty. He stood by the garage door. In the dim lighting Otaktay looked awful, like he hadn’t ate or slept in weeks. Greg Lestrade approached the medicine man. “Let me go get John and Sherlock, come sit down.”

Otaktay stepped back out of physical reach. I will stay in the garage away from the hunters and fae.”

“The fae aren’t here yet, you _need_ to sit down. You look awful.”

“The fae have just arrived. And I can’t be around anyone right now. Go back inside Greg.”

 

The inside door opened and John stuck his head through the opening, “Greg your men are spooked get- Otaktay?” John walked all the day into the garage. “Are you okay?”

“Far from it little brother.” The struggle to speak was evident with every word.

Lestrade disappeared and promptly came back carrying a chair for their weak friend.

 

“What are you doing here Otaktay? You’re not well and you said yourselves it wasn’t safe for you to be here.”

“Moriarty will be here soon so it doesn’t matter. I...can block him for short periods. I want to try something when he gets here and attacks.”

 

Lestrade left them to their plotting while he went to go see what had his people spooked enough to send for him.

When he had pushed his way into the sitting room he understood. The fae was here. And clearly they all shouldn’t have been able to fit in the room as well as his people. The fae all looked more like spectres, they were superimposed over each other and his hunters. It was unnerving. And when a fae touched him, his skin tingled. Lestrade made his way to the bedrooms figuring that was where he would find Liam. Mansi and Delma stood outside the front doors keeping watch and out of sight.

As expected Lestrade found Liam all snuggled up with Mycroft. He grinned despite his sour mood. “You know Mycroft the more I see you like this the less I can see you as a big bad council member.”

Liam barely moved away, he tucked himself in under Mycroft’s arm.

“Don’t tease. I like him cuddly. When people tease him he gets all terse and I get no cuddles and then I will have to have a talk with you Detective.” Liam tried to look stern, but broke out in a wide smile. “What’s up boo?”

“Uh, your...people?” Liam nodded. “Okay, people. Your people are freaking everyone out with the ghost thing they are doing. Can some of them move outdoors or at least stop being see through?”

Liam laughed. “Uh uh hun. It not only helps to camouflage your men, we should all remain together in one spot so no one is caught off guard.”

 

There was a sudden oppressive weight hanging over the house. Lestrade looked to Liam who suddenly wasn’t his cuddly, flamboyant self. He stood tall, away from Mycroft, his face was stern and he held an air of authority. “This doesn’t feel like Moriarty but it definitely feels malevolent.” The three men walked back out to the sitting room. It was as silent as a tomb in there. Outside they heard the wind pick up to an angry howl. John pushed his way through to the front door, catching up with Liam who was now in full vampire combat mode. Lestrade started to edge away from the vampire. John addressed Liam. “Stand down Liam, it’s Rayne, but her energy feels off.” Lestrade's head snapped up at mention of Rayne’s name.

“Damn right it feels off, she’s out for blood. Who here pissed her off?” Mycroft, Liam and John all turned to look at Lestrade.

Holding up his hands he pleaded his case, it wasn’t me mate. We parted on good terms. But she wasn’t acting herself.”

 

Sherlock was shoving his way through the throng of hunters and incorporeal fae. When he reached his house mates he asked, “Who pissed off Rayne?” Again everyone turned and looked at Lestrade.

He didn’t get a chance to deny the silent accusations again because the front door burst inward scattering wood splinters throughout the room. A chorus of shocked cries rang out around the room.

 

Delma and Mansi fought to stand upright against the onslaught of the wind. Both had put their swords away not wanting it to be ripped from their grasp by the errant wind. John looked past Sherlock, who was trying to block him from the wind and any further debris. What he saw gave him pause, Rayne’s eyes glowed a furious red as she flew past Delma and Mansi knocking them off balance and into the house. She landed in the middle of the room forcing hunters down beneath her feet.

“Bow before me and I will spare your lives. Refuse and I’ll bathe in your blood tonight.”

The wind died down completely so people were able to stand upright and help others up as well. Some of the hunters exited the front so that there was fighting room. The hunters that Rayne landed on were injured and she kicked them away so she could stand on even ground.

“No one will accept my offer? Well then who will be the first to die?”

A female hunter started to step forward but Lestrade stepped in front of her blocking her path. He approached Rayne. He wondered if this was what she meant by make the hard choices and help her. Was he supposed to kill her?

He stared at the heartless monster before him and all he could see was the way she had been before whatever happened to make her this way.

“Rayne! This isn’t you. Stop this right now.”

Rayne closed the difference between them, her face still a thing of object horror. Her fangs were in battle mode completely extended, running pass her bottom lip reaching almost to her chin. They were also thicker, there was no doubt in Lestrade's mind she would be able to kill with one bite.

He reached out a hand and stroked her face. It was all sharp angles where her face had distorted. Her brow bone was pronounced as were her cheekbones. Her skin felt like rough leather beneath his hand. But her eyes, her eyes were back black, and they were the same. “Rayne, I know you’re in there. Talk to me please.”

Rayne knocked his hand away and lifted it to hit him, but at the last moment she hesitated and hit the closest hunter instead, sending him flying into others.

“You are nothing to me.” She hissed. I will finally get to taste the sweetness of your blood.” Rayne pulled Lestrade roughly against her; her snake like tongue flicking out to stroke at his throat.

“I told you I cared for you and would help you any way I could, and I meant it.” Lestrade said quietly as he wrapped his arms around the monster in front of him.

Rayne looked confused for a split second before she struck. As soon as her fangs were buried in his neck Lestrade drove the syringe Sherlock had passed him into hers, emptying its contents.

Rayne cried out dropping Lestrade and clutching at her middle. She fell to the ground in pain. A hunter approached with a machete, John blocked his way. The room remained quiet as they watched Lestrade stagger over to her, dropping down and pulling her into his arms and rocking her until her cries stopped and she passed out.

 

“Is she dead?” A hunter asked.

“No.” Sherlock answered, we gave her the vampire cure.

“Lies! There is no such thing.”

“There is now, Dr. Watson and myself developed it.”

“How do we know it works?”

“We have tested it several times.”

“Then why didn’t you take it?”

Sherlock walked over to John’s old room and came back. “Everyone will be armed with several syringes. Each syringe is one dose for one vampire. Remember they are here to kill us, make sure you take them out first. The cure is a last ditch effort.”

“But why? We should be passing out the cure in truckloads.”

“Because,” John began to answer, “most vampires live quite a long time and the bad ones-”

“They’re all bad!”

John cut his eyes to the person who yelled that out. “Just as all humans must be serial killers based on the auctions or others. As I was saying the bad ones have learned handy skills in the way of torture, killing and any number of crimes. Making them human doesn’t take those impulses away. They will still be bad, only now they’re human with a vast knowledge of how to commit crimes and get away with it.” John stared down the room making sure to have everyone's attention. “Making them human doesn’t solve the problem, it only negates it.”

 

Sherlock and Mycroft had gone to the room to retrieve more of the cure and started passing them out to the hunters.

Mansi and Delma helped Lestrade up, one carried Rayne while the other supported Lestrade around the waist, guiding them through the room safely and down to the basement. Delma made sure to lick Lestrade’s wound so that he wouldn't bleed out.

Mansi went back upstairs to get a change of clothes for Lestrade along with a couple of provisions, there was no way he could contribute to the fight in his condition. Among the items she brought to him were a couple of cure syringes just in case any vamps found their way downstairs.

 

Back upstairs the council spoke in Sherlock’s room, it was almost sundown now, they had no clue what time Moriarty would be attacking. They hadn't even been sure that it would be today until Otaktay verified it. The hunters had been here several hours as it was, they needed to eat and be able to try and rest. Sherlock volunteered to hit up a sporting goods store and grab some sleeping bags, he would take Mansi. Mycroft and Liam would go on a food run, and the fae would fade back into their own world until Liam called for them.

Sherlock kissed John quickly. “Bring our chairs in here, I don’t want them getting destroyed.”

“What about the couch?”

“Oh I don’t care about the couch, it’s almost completely scorched.”

“Only a corner of it is.”

“I have my mobile on me. If anything happens here call me right away.”

 

Everyone accomplished their task without a hitch. The hunters were eating and some were sleeping. They were spread out amongst all the rooms. The council members were all in Sherlock and John’s room minus Otaktay, Rayne and Lestrade.

Liam made a beeline for the bed. Both Mycroft and Sherlock made aloud noise to dissuade him. Stopping mid step he turned and pouted at Mycroft. But gave Sherlock a wink.

“Mansi and Delma you to are welcome to the bed.” John offered.

“Your rest is the most imperative. You should take the bed.” Delma said.

“The bed is big enough for four of us.” John suggested.

“Liam and I will take the chairs.” Mycroft pulled John and Sherlock’s chairs that came from the living room closer to one another. He sat down in John’s and Liam pushed Sherlock’s closer still so that Mycroft could pull his feet up and lounge in the two chairs. Liam climbed in next snuggling up against Mycroft. It was a tight fit but it Liam didn’t mind.

Sherlock and John went to make one last round around the house while the ladies climbed into bed.

 

In the sitting room there was no space not coveted by a hunter. Most was trying to sleep but several were up talking or on the phone. Not all of Lestrade's people came, some he hadn’t been able to reach on such short notice, and some blatantly refused to help. Moriarty was right, they were out numbered. But they had a couple of surprises of their own.

John checked on Otaktay and Sherlock made sure all the doors were locked. The front door had a board nailed to it since they were now missing that door.

 

Together Sherlock and John checked on Lestrade and Rayne. They knew from the other cases that Rayne would be out for at least twenty-four hours. Lestrade and Rayne were in clean clothes and out cold. Lestrade had his own healing to do.

 

Satisfied that everyone was as comfortable as possible and the house was as secure as possible, they made their way back to their room and into bed, John acting as a buffer between Sherlock and the ladies. He noticed as he lay on his side, his back up against Sherlock, facing the women, that Delma was cradling Mansi. He smiled.

 


	38. So It Begins...And Ends

John was woken up out of his sleep by two things, first was the overbearing, oppressive weight of evil and power married in a sentient being and the other was the sound of glass breaking. 

Everyone had gone to sleep fully dressed so they would be ready when the time came. It appeared that that time was now. The women were already awake and pulling on their weapons. John shook Sherlock gently and kissed him on the forehead. “Sherlock wake up. It’s time.” John spoke with a calmness he didn’t feel. He could hear the hunters scrambling in the other rooms. He felt hypersensitive to everything and everyone around him. Liam was helping Mycroft out of the chairs they had pushed together for their sleeping arrangements. 

Someone turned on the light. Sherlock stopped moving. John’s eyes were bleeding into white. But Sherlock had never seen his eyes this white and shine so brightly. He was sure if someone turned the light back out he could fully illuminate the room. He had to close his eyes and raise a hand when John turned to look at him. 

“So much evil here. I must go Sherlock, I love you.” He turned and strode out of the bedroom walking confidently between the frantic hunters. Going to the front door he lifted his hand and blasted the board away and stepped out into the night. What greeted him would have stopped his heart with fear only moments ago. Now, he felt a surreal calm as he faced the legion of men Moriarty had brought with him. Moriarty himself was out there, somewhere hiding. He had so much power he couldn’t completely mask himself. 

John took several steps closer to the hoard. “Listen up. Many of you here are deserving of death and no amount of pleading will save you. But others can yet be saved. If you do not wish for the sentence of death that comes with an assassination attempt step forward now and I will do my best to protect you until this is over and a proper, more lenient punishment can be dealt out.”  At first no one moved, inside or outside of the house and then John felt the cry from a soul full of remorse reach out. The vampire slowly made his way to the front of the crowd gathered. Other vampires watched him, uncertain of his intent. The vampire walked several yards and stopped, dropping to his knees and looking out to John. John felt his remorse beat at him. He sent the vampire a private message. _I forgive you brother._ The vampire felt especially bad for his role in the events leading up to tonight. Before the vampire could speak openly his head twisted all the way around so that he was now looking back at his brethren. An invisible hand reached through his chest and pulled out his heart igniting it in the air. A collective gasp went through the night. John could feel the confusion, the vampires and hunters inside didn’t knows if it had been John who had done this. The answer came straight away.

“Anyone else care to double cross me?” Moriarty’s voice rang out strong and smug. John still could not see the vampire or pinpoint his location but he was here and bloated with power.

The other vampire’s stood straighter, absolute in their cause, their decision helped along by Moriarty’s display of ruthlessness.

 

“Very well. This pains me, know that I get  _ NO  _ pleasure in this. You have all been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren and for the assassination attempt of a chosen judge. For your crimes you have been sentenced to death.” John let that sink in for a second and then repeated, “Your sentence is death.”

Without lifting a finger a section of the vampires directly in front of him ignited. Screams rent the air from the burning men. Some vampires scrambled away from the burning bodies and others started towards John and the house. 

All of a sudden the fae was there standing between the advancing vampires and John. They pulled beautiful weapons from intricately woven sheaths and began hacking at the vampires. As the fae mixed in with the vampires fighting, John could no longer fight with fire from a distance, he didn’t want to chance killing an ally. 

The hunters were filing out of the house and mingling with the fae and vampires. John was still burning bright white. He couldn’t understand how Moriarty had amassed so many followers. He had to have been at it for over a year. Maybe longer. There was a hand placed on his shoulder. He knew it was Sherlock without turning. Liam and Mycroft came to stand on the opposite side. Liam took John's hand in his as Delma and Mansi stood at their backs. John could feel Otaktay as if he was standing with them as well. 

_ Surrender council and I will spare your meager army.  _

Moriarty’s voice rang out in all of their minds. It went without saying that none of them believed him. 

Everyone moved off to join the fight. Mansi took to the roof playing target practice with arrows from a quiver on her back. She lit each arrow on fire with flames from her mouth before shooting them into the fray. Delma released both of her broadswords, spinning them on either side of her forcing room around her to give her space to fight properly and weld her weapons of choice. Liam glowed with magic, he muttered words under his breath as he shot sparks of magic at vampires from a distance. As the vampires moved closer he switched to hand to hand combat. Spinning, and kicking with such grace it looked choreographed. Mycroft used far more efficient methods, he walked right into the crowd thrusting his hand through chest cavities, and yanking hearts out stepping on them. 

 

John took this all in, not allowing himself to feel sad for the lost of life. Or to even feel all the emotions swirling in the air around him. The hopelessness, greed, joy, pain, regret, arousal. If you named an emotion it was present here on the front lawn turned battlefield. John had a job to do and couldn’t allow any of this to affect him except to motivate him to succeed. 

John had filled Sherlock in on the plan Otaktay had, he needed Sherlock’s help to make it successful and it did have it’s own risk. They hadn’t told anyone else of their plan, and to anyone looking on they would think the two of them weren't doing anything but allowing their people to do all the fighting, that wasn't true. But John was sure Liam would be able to tell they were up to something. 

 

John concentrated on calling as much power to him as possible. Including power from the people around him, minus Sherlock and Otaktay. Unfortunately he couldn’t afford to be more selective than that. He just hoped that it didn’t cause a problem for those working with him to defeat this threat. John saw some of Lestrade’s men go down and use the cure to keep from being attacked. The vampires collapsed with pain caused by the cure. 

John was barefoot, from his earlier lessons with magic he knew he needed all the advantages he could get and direct contact with the earth helped to draw the power and magic to him easier. Sherlock touching him also helped it flow easier. John noticed that with mixed company, both dark and light magic present, Sherlock seemed to also serve as a filter for all the evil and vileness that was contaminating the magic. Magic was inherently neutral, there for the taking or harvesting; it was the person who made it either bad or good.

 

A hunter was suddenly thrown directly at them. Mansi jumped down from her vantage point to catch the hunter and sit him down gently. John saw more of the hunters go down in weariness, the fae too started to blink out, he assumed they were retreating back to their world. As outnumbered as they were, the vampires were quickly dwindling in numbers. He saw that Mycroft and Delma both were covered from head to toe in blood and ash. Liam he noticed was limping and had a nasty gash across his back but still he fought. Mansi was tossing syringes of the cure at vampires like ninja stars. Liam retreated to where John and Sherlock were standing and with his own powers he exploded each syringe. This method took out a handful more of Moriarty’s men before Mansi and Liam were both thrown off their feet  by an unseen force. Liam didn’t get back up and John saw Mycroft stagger as if he himself had been hit. John was suddenly assaulted with the full intensity of Mycroft’s love for Liam and the need he had to go and see if his life mate was okay. He was full of anguish; but Mycroft fought on. Anger didn’t show on the surface but it boiled hot just beneath.

 

John closed his eyes. He was almost done, he couldn’t afford anymore distractions. He had to draw as much power as he could into himself so he would be able to end this all. Sherlock had strict instructions on what to do once John was completely imbued with magic. 

John could feel Moriarty’s anger and confusion now. He was close. He could feel the magic being drained away slowly from him but he couldn’t tell who was doing it, or even where it was going. John could taste the vampire’s fear, but John got no joy from even this small victory. 

Otaktay appeared on his left. Weak and barely able to stand, he took John’s hand and together they stood to end the threat to mankind and vampire alike. 

Moriarty landed several feet in front of them. John kept his eyes closed as he felt himself reaching his limit. He whispered through Sherlock,  _ Now. _

Sherlock dropped his hand from John’s shoulder and without looking back at him grabbed first Mansi and Liam depositing them in the house, and then Mycroft and Delma. He moved faster than the human eye could track, gathering all the hunters by twos and taking them in the house. Those that were already deceased he left outside. When he had them all inside he too remained inside. He supposed John hadn’t thought this part through completely with him blowing the makeshift door away. He could feel the power struggle outside. He needed to find something to block the door with. Looking around he saw the only thing feasible, his bookshelf. It was old and sturdy, a piece from the old world, his old life. He hoped it would survive this small maelstrom about to take place, but if it did not, so be it. The lives and safety of those within were far more important. 

 

Back outside John and Otaktay faced off with Moriarty. Moriarty knew he was losing the advantage but with a last ditch effort he tried to use what he knew best, what came as second nature to him always. Psychological manipulation, mind games, reverse psychology, mental and emotional abuse; whatever it took, it didn’t matter because he was good at it all. “I see you finally realize what a losing battle you have before you. Sherlock and the other’s retreating, leaving the so called greatest Judge of our time and the forever shunned skin walker and medicine man of the Lakota Tribe. You two do realize you can’t win against me, because I have already won. Inside the dark fae are tearing your loved ones apart bit by bit.”

John was sure Moriarty was lying. He would feel the dark fae if they were truly here, wouldn’t he? John physically shook himself, dispelling the doubt Moriarty was weaving. He and Sherlock had exchanged blood several times, he know if something was wrong with Sherlock? If he died, right? John fought to hold onto the magic he had gathered to himself. He knew they had to wait for just the right moment, they didn't want to show their hand prematurely. 

 

Moriarty saw the doubt flash across John’s face. Sure he was a judge, but in the end he was also only human. Humans and their self doubt and pity, it was what made it easy to get in their heads and get what he wanted and needed from them. Moriarty walked a tight circle around the two men. Brothers in arms he heard Otaktay think. Now _he_ was a beautiful creature. Moriarty wished things had played out just a slight bit different so he could have enjoyed this man before him, with his naturally golden brown skin  and long black hair. He had a backbone, strong minded and almost unbreakable. Even as his body was failing him his mind still fought. Moriarty reached out and ran a hand down the center of Otaktay’s back, letting his fingers ghost over his arse, and then he shoved the man hard, face first into the ground. 

Standing behind John he grabbed him by his hair, yanking his head back hard he bit into him savagely. Expecting the same sweet life giving blood he had taste twice before he drank deeply from his neck and was surprised when the blood he took from the man began turning into acid in his mouth, burning as it made it’s way down his throat and into the pit of his stomach, sitting like a boulder. He shoved John away too, furious that his blood scorned him so. Lashing out with an invisible force he slashed at the two men on the ground. The smell of blood assaulting his senses and making his mouth water as his stomach revolted. It drove him mad, he slashed and slashed at the men in front of him. Stopping abruptly he walked so he could see their faces. “Don’t you see, you are only human. The big bad vampire council left the work to be done by the humans. How pathetic is that? It’s because they knew it was a lost cause and unwinnable, and once you two are out of the way they will join forces with me. It‘s inevitable I fear. And John, Sherlock will run right back in my arms, begging and pleading for me to-”

Moriarty stopped talking mid sentence as both Otaktay and John began to glow. John glowed brighter and it was hard to look at the man directly. Moriarty realized belatedly that Otaktay had been using the link he had forged between them to siphon the dark fae magic away and into himself, while John masked the act by draining the magic from everywhere else. Moriarty tried to lash out with his own very meek vampire powers, nothing happened. 

 

John stood up looking Moriarty in the eyes. He could see the light emanating from himself. “Moriarty,  you have been judged and found guilty of crimes against humanity and endangerment of your brethren  and for the assassination attempt of a chosen judge . For your crimes you have been sentenced to death.” 

Moriarty was frozen in John’s gaze every crime he ever committed and even those he had been currently conspiring to commit ran before both John and Moriarty’s mind eye. Tears of blood ran thick and slow from Moriarty’s eyes, not caused by remorse or fear, but the slow pain gripping his body. 

“No amount of pleading can save your life Moriarty. The dark fae have fled you because they knew _yours_ was the lost cause and _we_ would be victorious.”

 

John slowly squeezed an invisible hand around Moriarty’s heart, blood now flowing from his nose, mouth and ears. This man deserved a slow and painful death, he deserved many deaths and if it were up to John he would take him to the brink of death repeatedly, over and over again, allowing him to heal just to almost kill him again as long as John lived. But John recognized that it was thoughts like these that made for a fertile breeding ground for monsters to be born. 

John started a small spark at the base of Moriarty’s impeccable pants suit. He watched as the spark grew and traveled up. John thought about a saying from the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.,  **_“_ ** **_Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”_ ** It was true, John decided he should end the monster Moriarty in the manner that he and Otaktay had discussed earlier. 

 

John imagined the magic he had gathered in himself as a compact ball of light, the wind picked up around them, whipping hair and clothes alike all around. Debris, loose branches and all manner of flora and fauna raced through the air around them. The three men didn’t seem to be affected by the weather. John took all the magic stored up in him and shoved it quick and hard into Moriarty, exploding the man in front of him. The ash of Moriarty’s body was scattered and carried far and wide with help of the errant and seemingly angry winds.

The winds slowly died down and with it’s ceased howling John’s body hit the ground.

  
  


John woke up to Sherlock sleeping curled up next to him on the bed. Otaktay sat in a chair at the foot of the bed also nodding. When John shifted to sit up both Sherlock and Otaktay startled awake. 

“John! Thank goodness. You gave us quite a fright.” 

John took in Sherlock’s appearance, he looked like a vagabond, his hair was disheveled and he had an alarming amount of facial hair. For someone who took such pride in his looks, he knew then things must had looked grave for John indeed. “What happened Sherlock, do I even want to know how long I was out this time?”

Sherlock rested his head lightly against John’s, eyes squeezed shut against the emotions rolling through him. Steeling himself he opened his eyes and met John’s gaze. “A week. After you blew Moriarty apart you passed out with no heartbeat. I- I heard your heart stop John. I had never been so scared in my life. I...ran out to you and Otaktay was already doing chest compressions on you. I don’t know what killed you, so to speak.” Sherlock was speaking so low now, John struggled to hear him. “You had lost a lot of blood from Moriarty slicing you open and drinking in your blood. You also expended too much energy too quickly. You drove everything you had into Moriarty, leaving nothing for yourself. Otaktay thinks even your very life force was expended. That that was what killed you.”

“So what happened? What brought me back?” John was afraid of the answer, he was afraid the answer would be something he wasn’t ready to commit to. He was deathly afraid Sherlock was going to tell him that he had turned him into a vampire. 

“I gave you some of my blood while Otaktay did one of his mystery rituals. It got your heart started, but you didn’t wake back up until today.”

“What were our losses?” John asked the question in hope of disguising his relief of not being turned against his will. 

Sherlock looked sad. “Liam-”

John panicked. Please don’t let something have happened to Liam.

“Liam was hurt pretty bad. He will live fortunately, but I was told you drained a lot of his magic and power away and he now has to heal the slow way. Mycroft, Delma and Mansi are fine. Lestrade is fully healed thanks to me forcing him to drink a bit of my blood. And Rayne is adjusting to her new life. All of the vampire’s that had been given the cure during our little conflict, most of them died when you released that power and magic. But the ones that survived, between Mycroft and myself we gave them all new memories and hope they stick.”

“Lestrade’s people?”

“Approximately one fourth of the ones that had showed up.”

John cursed under his breath. “Did Liam experience any losses?”

“Surprisingly only two. Everyone else pulled back before any permanent damage was done. You were draining their power and magic as well. The two that died stayed to try and protect their king.”

John felt awful. But he knew in his heart there had been no other way. Moriarty had been basically untouchable with the fae magic helping to conceal his dark ways. 

John turned to Otaktay. “What next for you brother? Are you still going back to the states?” 

“I am uncertain. I feel obligated to stick around and make sure everything gets off the ground properly, I am apart of the council afterall. But another part of me feels like I need to get back home.”

“Have you heard from Hyde?”

“Actually yes. He said to give you his condolences and to let you know he didn’t run because he was a coward, but because this wasn’t his fight and he needed to track down a lead that might prove helpful to us in the near future.”

“What does that mean?” Sherlock asked?

“I don’t know.”

 

There was a soft knock at the door. “Come in.” Called Sherlock. 

Rayne walked in with Lestrade right behind her. “So glad to have you back she said. Unfortunately, I must bring bad news.”

“What now?” John asked sounding extremely tired.

“She has awakened.”

“Who is  _ she _ ?” John asked.

Rayne locked eyes with Otaktay, John saw the color drain from his friends face as he spoke, “The mother of all vampires, the female half of the two Original Vampires.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends this monster of a story. I feel like I lost quite a bit of readers along the way, sorry.   
> I have left it opened ended just in case I want to pick up this story line again. 
> 
> For all of you who have stuck with the story from start to finish, thank you. Thank you for reading my messy stories while I attempt to perfect my craft and become a better, more convincing storyteller. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to you all!


End file.
